


Wolfmother (Convergence Series Book 3)

by JMRiddles



Series: Convergence Series [3]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Action, Action/Adventure, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Bad Boys, Demons, Dragon shifter, Dragons, F/M, Fantasy, Magic, Magic-Users, Mates, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Past Relationship(s), Romance, Shifter, Unrequited Love, Were-Creatures, Werewolf Mates, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-05
Updated: 2019-12-27
Packaged: 2020-01-05 03:15:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 20
Words: 91,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18357473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JMRiddles/pseuds/JMRiddles
Summary: With the goddess's help, Halea was able to capture Lord Anshar within the dark mirror, but how can she save him? The demons have grown more powerful and learned to mimic their prey and all the signs of warning point to the coming of another convergence. In his despair and madness, Lord Anshar vows to never again perform a sacrifice to banish the Chaos Dimension, but Varg does not believe him and fears that if Halea succeeds in her mission and frees the dragon, the ultimate price may be her life. As the danger mounts, the few remaining priestesses must look to Halea and the lycans for help. Varg and Halea call for a gathering of the wolves to battle against the looming threat, but does Halea truly have what it takes to become a Wolfmother?





	1. Beyond the Dark Mirror

* * *

 

"Are you in there?"

Nothing.

Was it going to be another one of those days?

Some days he would respond and almost be coherent, speaking of a mysterious voice that tormented him before his capture. Other days were worse, and though he was there, he could not focus or respond to any direct questions. Mad ravings and jumbled memories would pour out and drain away all her hope.

And then there were the silent days.

"Please. Please, say something," she pleaded while wringing her hands in her lap.

The mirror remained dark. Only the faint outline of her reflection graced the surface, but beneath that, there was nothing.

"Lord Anshar, please say something. I need to hear your voice," she tried again in despair as tears threatened the corners of her eyes.

"Halea?" came the voice in the mirror, and pity wrenched at her heart. He sounded so tired. So very tired.

"Yes! Yes, it's me, Lord Anshar. How are you feeling today? Please show yourself. It's been weeks now, and I just want to know that you're okay."

"Why won't you come to me, Halea?"

She bit her lip in frustration. It was going to be another bad day.

"I can't, Lord Anshar. You're in the dark mirror, and I can't reach you, but I can see you. Please let me see you."

"They're tearing me apart. My blood! I can smell it. It's everywhere. Their blood. Their eyes. It's on my hands. I can't get the smell of their blood off my hands. I need you. Where are you? Please, I need you!" he called, and with every word, his voice grew louder, more frantic, more unhinged.

"Shh. Shh. I'm here. I'm here. I'm with you. It's okay. No one is hurting you. Please let me see you. There's no blood. I know there isn't. Please, just let me see you."

Something moved beneath the surface of the mirror, and a form came within view.

It was him.

"Halea?"

"I can see you! Yes, I can see you. You're okay. See, no one is hurting you. You're safe."

"There is blood."

"No. No, there is no blood. Don't you believe me?"

His vacant eyes looked up from his trembling hands. Within the mirror dimension, a shimmering surface reflected his surroundings. Usually, it only showed his own morose visage, but now he could see her looking back at him, and his face hardened at what he saw.

"Don't look at me like that, Halea! Please. I can't stand your pity!" he growled, suddenly remembering why he couldn't bear to show himself. He was hurting her. He was making her sad, and it was his fault.

He began to step back.

"No! No, please don't leave, Lord Anshar! Stay with me. We can talk about pleasant things. We can talk about…" she paused, struggling to dredge up some happy memory from their past.

"Do you remember before I became a priestess when everyone was gathered for the New Year prayer, and I was running so late because I fell asleep after our training? Gods, you wore me out, ya know? I mean, really, it was kind of your fault. I came running into the chapel and slammed into Senior Cleric Edgar and knocked him over, and then he knocked over the whole back row of devotees. Everyone was staring at me, and I'm sure my face was red. Mama Dragon was trying so hard not to laugh, and Grandfather was embarrassed and trying to pretend like he didn't know me. You just gave me this exasperated look and shook your head, and High Priestess Maven jumped up and dragged me back out of the chapel by my ear and scolded the life out of me."

"Everyone was trying so hard to keep a straight face, even me," he added, and his voice sounded lighter as if the threat of mirth was tempting him from the shadows. "I heard her slap you from the hall."

And then it was gone.

"She hurt you. That, I remember. You were still just a girl. You couldn't heal yet, and Maven didn't know her own strength. Your face was bruised for a week," he recalled, and suddenly the mirth was gone, and his face grew dark with anger.

"It wasn't that bad, really. I did deserve it." she anxiously tried to backtrack as the fond memory soured.

It was no use. He remembered it all. He remembered the smell of tears on her face as she was dragged back into the chapel in shame. He remembered taking Maven aside after the services and admonishing her for being too harsh on someone who was still just a child and not yet a priestess. It was an accident, and Senior Cleric Edgar should have known better than to stand so close to the chapel door. He remembered trying to comfort her the next day and asking her to spar again in an attempt to cheer her up. She loved sparring with him. She was so happy when they were outside together in the gardens. Her eyes would glow. He missed those days.

He missed her.

"What happened to us, Halea? We used to be so close. I've never been as close to anyone as I was with you. You were the only one who saw me for what I was, and yet you never hated me for it. Why?"

"Lord Anshar, please. You didn't deserve to be hated."

"That's not true!" he shouted. "I failed everyone, including you. My weakness is why your mother is dead, Halea. That was me! That was all my fault because I couldn't stand to do my duty. I hate what I am, Halea. I hate what I was forced to be – a servant. My whole life that is all I have ever been, and I hated every damn moment of it. And you! You knew! You knew the truth. You should have turned from me when you had the chance. You should have hated me as I deserved. Instead, you made me love you. Is this my punishment? To be denied the only thing I've ever loved. So be it."

"Lord Anshar," she sobbed as unrestrained tears shed from her eyes.

"I know why you're here! You think you can convince me to serve again. You want me to stop the next convergence, but I will not. You know what would be required of me. I see clearly now where I am, trapped in this accursed dimension of Tiamet's own creation. Caged like an animal. But within this cage, no one will control me. No one will bend me to their will. Here, I am no longer compelled by the voice from the Chaos or from Tiamet. Here, there is only silence and my tortured mind. As long as I am trapped here, no one can use me, and I shall never be controlled against my will again, not even by you. Go! I can't bear the sadness in your eyes."

"But I don't want…"

"Hear this, Halea. I swear upon the gods, I shall never again perform a sacrifice. Now, go!"

Halea jumped to her feet and stormed out of the room, slamming the heavy wooden door behind her.

Lord Anshar watched her flee from within the mirror and clenched his fists in resolve.

" _Whether it remakes the world or utterly destroys it; let the convergence come. I can't save you, but at least I will not be the one to kill you. I'm sorry. I know you think there might be another way, but there isn't. I tried_ ," he thought as his image faded from the surface of the mirror.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A note from your humble author** : I'm baaaaaack! Sorry for the long hiatus, but I was very busy editing book 2 and getting it ready for publication, but don't worry, I got some writing done too. As with the last book, I will be posting a new chapter every other Friday.
> 
> So what did you guys think of this chapter? Lord Anshar's still pretty damn crazy. I'm sure this chapter gave all my #teamanshar's the feels.
> 
> Speaking of Team Anshar, I know quite a few of you have been shipping him and Halea, well, what if I told you that I've written a little cut scene where those two actually get together? Yep. You see, Lord Anshar is crazy, and we already know from Book 2 that he likes to imagine things that never happened (poor woobie). So I decided to write a very explicit...er...wet dream? Mental episode? Trip down crazy lane? Whatever you want to call it, it's basically Lord Anshar's imagination running wild mixed in with a bunch of his usual angst and madness, and I've decided that I will give this extra cut scene to my book reviewers. Yes, sorry, there is a little catch. You see, I'm trying very hard to make this series a self-published success, but I can't do it without reviews. I need as many as I can get, so, for those of my amazing readers who are kind enough to write a review for books 1 and 2 (especially book 2) and post them up on Goodreads (and/or that other place where people review books cause I'm not allowed to mention it here), I will be sending them a link to this private side story/cut scene as my way of saying "Thank you," to those who have shown their support for the series. So if you want in on this sexy Anshar/Halea goodness, shoot me an email j@jmriddles.com to let me know, and I'll hook you up.
> 
> Uh, is this cut scene canon?
> 
> Yes and No. It doesn't add or subtract anything from the plot because it all takes place in Lord Anshar's crazy mind and his dirty, dirty thoughts are all his own.


	2. Winter's End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A note from your humble author** : Hey everyone. Just a reminder that if anyone has a moment to spare and would like to help me out, I still desperately need reviews before book 2 goes live (you do NOT have to buy anything! I am absolutely NOT asking for money, just feedback on the two main book reviewing sites!). Especially after receiving a couple of sub-par reviews for book 2 on Goodreads from people who didn't even read the book (I'll never use NetGalley to hand out ARCs again. The whole experience has had me feeling very low 😢 ). I would be more than happy to hook you up with an exclusive sexy Lord Anshar cut scene as my way of saying thank you. Those who have taken me up on the offer have really enjoyed it. And to those who have given me a review, from the bottom of my heart - thank you!

Halea dried her eyes on the sleeve of her green robe as she stood just outside the tree-dwelling door and struggled to compose herself before climbing down and making her way back.

Varg had reluctantly agreed that she could close their bond during her interrogation sessions with Lord Anshar. It was never a pleasant experience, and there was nothing her mate could do to help her, except be there to comfort her when she was through.

Opening their bond was like being allowed to breathe again after the suffocating time spent within the isolated tree, and she could sense that Varg was coming.

“Did you get him to speak this time?” Varg asked as he approached, seemingly from nowhere, and she could tell that he had become impatient and came to collect her. Even though Lord Anshar was trapped, Varg still did not trust the dragon and had insisted that the mirror be kept as far away from the den as possible.

She nodded and leaned against his muscular chest for comfort, and he wrapped his arms around her, his warmth a soothing balm on her jangled nerves.

"He seems better today."

Varg regarded her with a raised eyebrow, her emotional distress suggested otherwise.

"I mean, he talked. He really talked to me. He showed himself too. His wound has healed, and he looks okay…just sad."

"What's wrong?" he asked sensing a dark cloud over her thoughts.

"He said he's not going to help us. He swore on the gods that he would never sacrifice again."

"Then we don't need him. The next time a priestess comes, send him back with them and be rid of him. He's only tormenting you."

"I can't do that, Varg. Tiamet wants me to save him. Maybe it's just the madness talking. One moment he's there, and the next he's gone again. He says the voice that used to torment him hasn't spoken since being within the mirror, but he's clearly still not well. Whether he hears it anymore or not, it's left a lasting effect, and I have to try and snap him out of it. He's our only hope."

As much as Varg wanted to argue that the dragon had made his vow and it didn't matter whether or not he still heard from his imaginary friend, he couldn't. Halea wanted hope. Her goddess had not spoken or appeared before her since the day the dragon was caught, but she was convinced that Tiamet's intervention was a sign that something could yet be done. He wasn't sure if he believed that or not, but he forced himself to remain optimistic for her sake. As much as he disliked having that accursed object within his lands or that bastard around his mate, if believing that Anshar could change gave her hope, he would endure it.

She looked up at him with eyes imploring for him to understand, and he was defeated.

"If you really believe there's a chance, keep trying. Things have been calmer, I'm sure we'll hold out," he said while running his fingers through dark golden hair.

Winter had only begun when they brought the mirror to the lycan territory and now the season was coming to a close. A few melting and muddy piles of snow still littered the ground beneath the trees, but spring was not far away. During the long winter, Varg and Halea had taken out a group of their best warriors every time a demon threatened their lands and swiftly eliminated them. They had only seen two tears in all that time, and thankfully, there had been no injuries from dark weapons. The activity from the Chaos Dimension seemed to be diminished, but Halea suspected it was only the calm before the storm, and Varg hoped that she was wrong.

Mama Dragon had left their territory with the coming of winter, taking her therian companion with her. She would not return until later in the spring, but Halea was more than capable of protecting the lycan lands in her stead.

"I guess you're done working on the house for today. How is it coming along?" she asked, hoping to change the subject to something more pleasant.

Varg's smile revealed his gleaming white fangs as he detected her eager curiosity. He hadn't allowed her to see any of his construction efforts. He wanted the completed tree-house to be a surprise, but his secrecy also made her nervous. She was constantly accusing him of going overboard, and she wouldn't have been wrong, but he was confident the finished home would win her favor. It was keeping the rest of the pack quiet that was the real challenge. Against his orders, many had peeked, and he knew they were gossiping. His only concern was that someone would spoil the surprise for Halea, but thankfully, most knew better than to risk his anger by ruining his plans.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” he teased with a deep laugh before leading her back towards the den.

"Yes, damn it, I would! You're up to something terrible, I just know it."

"Of course I am, but you'll love it anyway. You'll just have to be patient. Spring is nearly here, and better weather means I can make faster progress."

"I'm sorry if I'm impatient, but you've got me so wound up, plus after a long winter of living almost entirely in caves and caverns, I'm dying to see what the sky looks like again," she grumbled.

When winter set in with all its freezing winds and harsh snow, they lycans had abandoned their outdoor fire pits and retreated within the vast caverns of their mountains. The caverns also had fire pits, and were cozy in their own way, and beautiful with their veins of gold and shimmering stalactites, but being enclosed all the time got tiring after a while. She longed for soft spring grass and fresh green leaves, wildflowers, and skies as blue as Varg's eyes. Batsuba's medical training was far more boring during the winter as well. Without fresh herbs to study and gather, Halea was left with lectures, musty tombs, anatomy lessons, and house calls. The house calls weren't so bad. Alongside Batsuba, she had finally managed to help deliver three new cubs, and she had cried each and every time. Giving birth was difficult, and the male mates were unbearable, but to see a new life come into the world filled her with unparalleled joy. She understood why Batsuba never grew tired of it, and her heart ached with unspoken longing.

"It looks like that," he said while pointing up, but she slapped his arm.

"You know what I mean, you mangy wolf," she laughed as Varg wrapped one arm lovingly around her shoulders.

"I suppose, I had better hurry. I'd like to get our home finished before the Spring Moon Festival. There's going to be a lot of work to do between now and then."

For lycans, the first full moon after the spring equinox symbolized the birth of a new year. Everyone would gather outside, even if it wasn’t always entirely warm enough yet, and make huge bonfires. The entire week before the full moon was one long celebration. Ale and wine would flow, and there would be song and dance and storytellers recounting histories and epic tales of days long past. Prayers would be offered to the wolf gods, asking them to bless the hunts for the new year and there would be sports and games. After a long winter of being cooped up inside, many lycans longed to stretch their legs and exert themselves. There would be wrestling matches, fights, of the refereed variety, races, and an archery competition. The entire week before the celebration would be dedicated to competitive hunting challenges to see which teams could bring in the most fresh meat for the festival feast.

Varg had been in charge of managing the preparations for the festival every year since his father died, but thankfully all the lycans pitched in to help. Halea knew this and had been waiting for a good time to discuss the matter with him.

"Varg, let me manage the festival this year. Please."

He was a little surprised by her request. Typically, it was the Wolfmother's duty to orchestrate such social functions, but he had never wanted to force the responsibility onto his human mate. He had hoped that she would come around to performing some of the roles expected of her position, but if not, he would not ask it of her. Halea had struggled to be accepted by his people, and earning her place in the pack had not come easy. When he first mated her, he had tried to shelter her from the brutal ways of wolves, but his overprotective nature had caused her more harm than good. In the end, she had been forced to fight and exercise the might of her will against those who opposed her, and at long last, she seemed to command the respect that she truly deserved. He was incredibly proud of how far she had come and how much she had accomplished. Even her healer training with Batsuba severed to make her a valuable and revered Wolfmother. He wouldn't have dared to ask for more, but now she was freely offering to share the burden of alpha leadership, and his heart swelled so much it almost choked him.

"Are you sure? It is a lot of work. You don't have to force yourself to do anything if you're not ready yet."

"I can do this!" she stated with confidence that immediately halted her mate and made him catch her in his arms. "I've been thinking about it a lot lately. You work so hard for everyone here, and I should support you more. I said before, I want to be a real Wolfmother. You deserve a mate who is also a partner."

"Halea, you are already more than I deserve," he argued as he held her close and lovingly looked down on her shining face, the soft light through the bare trees revealing the last remnants of her childhood freckles.

She smiled warmly up at him. His words could not mask the elation she sensed from him through their bond. The pride. The love.

"What, you think I can't manage a party?"

"You can do anything," he breathed as his face leaned down towards hers drawing their lips close together. Their hands found each other and twined together.

"Well, then the matter is settled. I'm in charge. You can just worry about the hunts, and I'll take care of everything else. In fact, while you were busy building our house, I've already gathered several volunteers. We're going to have the best Spring Moon Festival ever!"

"You've been busy behind my back," he said in an amused tone as he nuzzled her nose and he could hear the sound of her heart as it fluttered against her ribs.

"I have a point to prove," she confessed with a smile as his lips slowly began to trail down the side of her face with the faintest of touches that ignited sparks beneath her skin.

"You don't have to prove yourself to me. The gods couldn't have granted me a better mate. You're everything I ever wanted and everything I could ever need. I love you, Halea," he spoke before softly teasing her lips with his and savoring the way she slowly opened her mouth in response. Her warm tongue met his as passion flowed between them through their bond and his chest vibrated as a low growl of satisfaction passed through him and ignited her deepest desires. The scent of her arousal permeated the air and he grew hard with need as the edges of his vibrant blue eyes turned red.

The howl of a wolf cried out from the den and Varg was forced to break their kiss with a growl of frustration.

"Did they find another demon?" she asked.

"No. It's a runner – from the southern pack. I guess we better go," he grumbled as he took her by the hand, and together they made their way back down towards the den.

When they reached the den, many had gathered to greet Ralph, the southern wolf, and he had already been escorted to Varg's fire pit and was being offered food and drink after his long run. When Varg and Halea approached, he stood up and bowed his head respectfully, waiting to be acknowledged.

"Halea, this is Ralph," Varg introduced. Ralph had been at the last gathering but hadn't seen Halea since she mated Varg. "Welcome, brother. What brings you this far north?" he asked before sitting in his usual seat at the pit and encouraging Halea to join him at his side.

Ralph looked a little uncomfortable at the human Wolfmother's presence, but he sat back down across from his king and another lycan approached and offered them all something to drink. Halea politely refused, but after Ralph's cup had been refilled and Varg was given a tankard of ale, the southern wolf got right to the point of his visit.

"Thank you for seeing me, Alpha Varg." There was a slight moment of pause before he added; "And Wolfmother Halea. Thank you both for your hospitality. It's been a long run, but the gods were merciful and granted me good weather for my journey. I come bearing a message."

"I've been expecting this. So, when shall I expect my cousin?" asked Varg.

"Alpha Raoul wishes to formally request a wolf gathering so that he may present himself before you and the council. The Spring Moon Festival is next month, and he believes this would be the most ideal opportunity to bring all the packs together."

Varg sensed Halea growing anxious beside him, and he swore he heard her heart skip a beat.

"I'm sorry if this spoils your plans," Varg said to Halea. "I know four packs together all at once, is far more than you bargained for and you don't have to manage it if it's too much."

"No," she quickly interjected. "No, I said I want to do this, and nothing is stopping me. You're right; a whole gathering is a lot, but I can do it. It might be more difficult, a lot more difficult, but I'll see it through. My volunteers will help me, and Batsuba will be with me, and besides, you need to finish our house. Don't pretend like you wouldn't just love showing off to all the other packs and you won't have time to finish it if you have to manage a gathering and a festival. Please, Varg, let me handle it. I'll be okay."

"If you're sure?"

"Very," she said with a firm nod.

Ralph watched his supreme alpha's interaction in amusement. He didn't know much about humans and had barely caught a glimpse of Halea at the last wolf gathering, but she was undoubtedly an alpha bitch. Suddenly Varg's choice seemed to make a little more sense.

"Then shall I return with a message that the gathering is to be held here on the Spring Moon Festival?" asked Ralph.

"Yes. I'll send runners to spread the news to the northern and eastern packs before they get too far invested into their own festival preparations," confirmed Varg before turning to address his mate. "Halea, there will be more runners over the next few weeks bringing messages from the other packs who will want to coordinate with you for the festival."

"I'll be ready," she replied.

He smiled brilliantly at her and squeezed her hand in appreciation. Any remaining fear she harbored dissipated at his open display of confidence in her abilities.

#

"Are you sure it's safe to come out of hiding?" asked Priestess Pauline as she stoked her campfire.

"I don't think Lord Anshar is going anywhere. Tiamet helped Halea to seal him within the mirror, and I'm not even certain how he'll get back out again. Priestesses have always closed dimensions, I never knew they could open them," Samesa replied as she finished the last of her tea and was grateful for its comforting warmth. Rufus had found her during the winter and delivered a message from Mama Dragon about Lord Anshar's miraculous capture. She had never heard of the Goddess personally intervening before, and deep down it made her afraid. They were not in a good situation if the gods were getting involved. She had spent the majority of the winter searching for her fellow priestesses and spreading the news. Mama Dragon was also out in the wilds doing the same thing, and Rufus would often visit with information about the location of the hidden priestesses. They no longer had a base of operation or a leader, and the time might come when they would all be needed.

"If the rangers have taken the castle as you say, there's no point in returning to Antherose. I haven't seen as many demons or tears, but it's probably better if we stay out here to make sure things don't get so out-of-hand again. I'm relieved though, I'm nearly out of that stuff that hides the way I smell, and not much has had time to grow yet."

"I think you can give that stuff a break for a while," Samesa offered with one of her glowing smiles. "I'll pass on your location to Rufus the next time Mama Dragon sends him my way, and if we need you, we'll know where to find you. Well, I guess I better get going. Chaos waits for no one," she said as she got up with a stretch.

"Wait, Samesa!"

"Hm?"

"Have your traps been working? I mean, I know there aren't many demons at the moment, but I swear they haven't been falling for traps the way they used to. I see footprints, but it looks like they know where the traps are and are going around them. You don't think they've learned to read the ancient language, do you?"

Discomfort clouded Samesa's face. She had also noticed the strange behavior. Ever since the last convergence when Lord Anshar disappeared, the demons had been different. Their forms were less primitive, and they exhibited a heightened intelligence.

"I don't know, Pauline. Things are a little calmer but no less serious. A storm is coming. All we can do is be on our guard. Maybe after spring gets here and things start growing again, you should keep drinking that scent masking potion, just in case. If they really are getting smarter, it wouldn't hurt to stay one step ahead."

"You're right," Pauline conceded with a nod.

The two priestesses embraced in solidarity before Samesa turned and continued on her way through the forest. She had to cover many more miles before reaching the nearest village, and she dreaded the idea of having to spend another night out in the cold. Her thoughts were troubled as she wandered beneath the trees and she worried about the future. High Priestess Maven had been kept under lock-and-key in the castle dungeon by Favion and Master Uro all winter, and now the rangers were there. They had no leader to guide them. For the first time since she was a child, she felt lost, alone, and afraid.

"Help," a small voice called in the distance.

Samesa snapped out of her brooding thoughts at the shocking sound.

"Please help me. I'm lost, and it's cold. Please, someone, help me."

" _A child? Out here in the middle of nowhere?_ " Samesa thought in horror before rushing through the trees.

There, huddled beneath the trees in a dirty cloak was a young boy, maybe about seven or eight years of age.

"Hey, kid, what are you doing way out here? Where are your parents?" Samesa asked as she approached.

"I'm lost. Please help me. Please," the boy begged as he looked up at her with tear-filled eyes.

Samesa's heart flooded with pity, and she stepped closer to help pull the boy from the ground. When she reached down to help him up, the moment his tiny hand touched her something snapped within her.

_Her grandmother bleeding from her throat. Her younger brother being torn to pieces as a demon shredded the flesh from his body and devoured it. Incredible pain as a dark blade sliced into her. Screams of terror as flames rose up to the night sky as her village burned to the ground. Sand dunes that stretched on endlessly. The mirage of her family beckoning to her but always just out of reach. A kind woman with a white face. Seeing endless trees for the first time. Sparring with her mentor. Standing over a grave and saying goodbye._

The pain of her memories being violated forced her to scream out in rebellion just before the invading presence could reach any further into her mind and before she knew it, she was lashing out with the white light of her purification.

"Stop!" she shouted as the powers of Tiamet flowed through her, and suddenly she was standing in the forest again and smoldering before her lay a hideous writhing mass of spindly legs attached to a hairy bulbous body. The warped humanoid face of the child was on the head of the creature and stretching out from its mouth were snapping mandibles. A sharp barb twitched as the beast struggled to move and without a second thought, Samesa called upon her powers again and purified the hideous creature which burst into white flame.

A strange green smoke rose from the charred remains and Samesa watched in horror as it moved through the trees like it knew where it was going, and then it was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A note from your humble author** : Damn it, Varg, finish that house already! Oh wait, that's next chapter. lol The creepy spider demons return. What is Chaos up to? You'll just have to keep reading to find out. Same bat time, same bat channel!
> 
> If you've made it all the way to book 3, thank you! I'm so happy that so many of you have stuck with me throughout this series and I promise I'll do my best to make this final book a great one. And yes, I'm working ahead, as always, and I'm on Chapter 7 now, so expect those steady chapters to keep on coming!


	3. Home Sweet Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A note from your humble author** : What? A new chapter a day early? Lucky you! I'm going on a road trip tomorrow and will be gone most of the weekend, so I'd rather give you the chapter a day early than several days late. Also, this is a chapter with a sex scene, you're extra welcome. ;)

"If you cauterize here, and here, you can stem the bleeding," explained Batsuba as Halea prodded through the insides of the dead beaver. A few weeks had passed since the wolf gathering was announced and Halea was scrambling to keep up with her apprenticeship while helping to organize the Spring Moon Festival. The last of the snow was gone, and small green sprouts were beginning to shoot up from the soil.

"What about a coagulate?"

"It depends on the severity of the case," but before the elder could go on, she noticed the young woman's eyes glaze over and her hand still in its motion.

"Oh, gods, what does he want now?" Batsuba grumbled.

"He's excited," Halea said with a smile as Varg's elation and anticipation came through their bond as powerful as a shout. He had been in a good mood all day, and now she could tell that he was coming to get her.

"What, in the middle of the day? Can't you two ever give it a rest?"

Halea's face burned beet red at the old healer's implication.

"Not that kind of excited!" she quickly defended. "I have a feeling he finished it."

Heavy steps thudded up the stairs as Varg entered Batsuba's tree-dwelling, and Halea jumped up without a word as together they went back out and through the den.

"Are you ready?" he asked.

"I thought I was," she said while taking a deep inhalation to calm herself.

The location Varg had selected for their new tree-dwelling was on the furthest southwestern edge of the den. They would still be a part of the community, but with a little more privacy, which Halea had particularly longed for ever since being mated. Lycans had such powerful senses they could see, hear, and smell over vast distances, and while Halea had grown a little more comfortable with her new people, she still didn't relish the idea of everyone in the den knowing all the intimate details of her sex-life with Varg.

As they drew near, Varg stopped, reached into his fur pelt, and pulled out a soft strip of leather.

"Close your eyes," he said.

"Oh, come on! I never peek."

Which was true. Ever since they were mated, Varg had dragged her to all corners of his territory for random surprises, and she had always humored him.

"I'm not taking any chances," he said with a laugh before fixing the blindfold over her eyes. She held out her hands for him to guide her, and was surprised when he didn't grab on.

"Where are you?"

"This is very amusing," he quietly whispered into her ear. "I rather like having you at my mercy," he added while stalking around her.

She shivered when she felt his breath behind her ear. "Don't tease me now, you mangy wolf! Haven't you made me wait long enough?"

"My, how eager you are, my puny human," he said now from somewhere in front of her, and she frowned in frustration.

He laughed roguishly before scooping her up into his arms, causing her to cry out when the ground disappeared from under her feet.

Halea felt a rush of air as they dashed through the forest and in just a moment they were at their destination and Varg was gently setting her down again. Being carried at high-speed while blindfolded disoriented her and she clung to Varg as a wave of dizziness passed.

He placed his hand on her lower back to steady her until he was sure she was settled before finally reaching up and untying her blindfold. Her eyes grew as round as saucers as she took in the enormity of the tree-dwelling that towered before her and she sucked in one long gasp.

Since Halea last saw those trees, they had grown their new spring leaves, and the soft green moss that coated their trunks was now dotted with tiny white flowers. Resting comfortably within their mighty boughs was a segmented tree-dwelling with two structures. The largest structure was situated between the three thickest trees and had a railed-off porch that circled the entire building, and the smaller structure was connected by a rope bridge and occupied the fourth tree off to the side. Rather than a spiraling stair, as was more common among lycan tree homes, these stairs zigged and zagged between two of the closer trees and were adorned with an ornately carved hand-rail. The roofs gently tapered on two sides leaving only the chimney pipes that stretched up far enough to avoid catching the leaves on fire. The larger structure had wide swinging doors and heavily shuddered windows on all sides, and the smaller structure had only one door and two windows.

There was no wiping the grin of satisfaction from Varg's face as he watched his mate stand there with her mouth gaping open.

"Varg," she finally managed to croak out.

"So what do you think?" he asked.

"I think you went overboard."

He nearly doubled over with laughter. He had expected that much from her, but despite her comment, he sensed no anger, only awe, and giddy excitement.

"Time to bring my mate home," he said before scooping her up once again and carrying her up the stairs and into the larger segment of their home. He set her down just over the threshold and Halea stood stock-still in amazement at the beautiful interior. Everything was bright and airy as warm light filtered in through the green leaves from outside and the entire room smelled of fresh pine and cedar. The room was big enough to entertain at least twenty people, and in the very center, the floor was recessed to form a circle that was lined with benches covered in soft furs and cushions, and in the middle sat a wood-burning stove. Most lycan tree-dwellings had one to three small rooms, but this one room was large enough to fit an average-sized tree home within it. Outside of the pit, thick and ornately carved structural beams provided support for the high ceiling, and Halea admired the carvings which portrayed vines and birds and budding roses. She had never even realized that Varg was such an artistic woodcarver. There were also two doors and an entryway that led to another room.

Varg encouraged Halea with a nod, and she stepped forward and gently pushed open one of the doors to find a modest room that contained a single-size bed, a wash basin, and window with a lovely view of the mountains. Halea looked through the entryway into the other room and found that it was a kitchen. Not quite a human kitchen. Varg had no idea what one of those would look like. It was one of the more rudimentary cooking stations that some lycans would use for the few meals they did prepare. It had a small stove, and Halea was surprised to find that it was already stocked with cooking utensils, dishes, and many of her favorite food items and seasoning herbs.

"Don't cook too much food in here; you'll break Ulrica's heart. She's gotten rather fond of being the one who gets to prepare most of your meals, but I figure you might enjoy using this on occasion."

"Oh, I will. I love it!" Halea cried as she brushed her hand over a smooth countertop. "Where did you get these stoves? I don't remember you trading for them last fall."

"We had a few extras lying around," he quickly explained, not wanting to go into details that the devastation of the convergence that once separated them had left many homes without owners, and the items had been repurposed. He didn't want to spoil their happy moment by bringing up the worst day of her life.

Halea accepted his explanation without further question before turning to the final door, which opened up to the outside and led to the rope bridge that connected to the smaller structure. The detached segment was a single room – a spacious bedroom. Because they had their own private hot spring close by, they didn't need the addition of a tub, and there was also a latrine not far outside.

A cozy looking fireplace was built into the wall, and several windows were open letting in the fresh sea breeze from the west. Halea noticed that most of the room's furnishings were the same from their cave. The same bed, the same chest of drawers, even her and Varg's personal belongings were present. His hunting bow and the spear from her days as a priestess were propped in a corner.

"How did you have time to get all our stuff in here since this morning?" she asked.

"Aatu and Faolan moved it in for us while I finished the last few touches. A lot of the decoratively carved pieces I worked on this winter. I had some free time between hunts and while you were busy learning medicine from Batsuba. I cobbled together quite a few things around here in a cavern workshop. It made it quicker to get the main structure together once the weather cleared with a lot of the smaller pieces premade and just needing to be installed."

Halea quickly brushed her hand across her eyes and discovered that she was crying.

"Varg, you did all this for me?" she asked while choking on her words.

He wrapped his arms around and laid her head on his chest. He knew she was only crying because she was happy.

"I'd do anything for you. I want you to be happy, Halea. You deserve it. I know how much you gave up to be here with me, and how much you've done since becoming a part of the pack. You deserve a million tree houses. And if there's anything you want to change or add, just say the word."

"Oh, Varg, the gods gave me everything the day I met you. It's so beautiful, and everything is perfect," she said before sobbing again, and he rubbed her back to soothe her.

"You're not angry that it's too big?"

"It is big, but I see what you mean," she managed to say after catching her breath. "I didn't know you could put a fire pit in a tree-dwelling, but I guess as alphas that is good to have. I'm sure we'll have guests eventually. Is that what that spare bedroom is for?"

They had already agreed that when Halea's grandfather came to stay later that spring, that he would be given his own private cave within the den, as due to his advanced age and increasing infirmity, the stairs of a tree-dwelling would not be agreeable to him. Varg had also not hidden the fact that he was not interested in cohabitating with the cranky old human, and Halea couldn't disagree, the whole reason they had chosen a home located on the outskirts of the den was to have a little more privacy. Her grandfather was used to living alone, but he would still be close enough to where he wouldn't be lonely.

"Guests stay in the caves. That room is for our child."

He had to resist the urge to laugh when she looked at him in startled confusion.

"Someday," he added. "I know you're not ready yet, but I figured it wouldn't hurt to be prepared. I've designed this place so I can easily add as many extra rooms as we want."

Fresh tears appeared in her eyes, and he sensed the anguish that ripped through her soul. The rune of contraception was still painted upon her wrist.

"What if we never get to use that room?"

He softly cradled her face in his hands and stared deeply into her eyes. "Then as long as I have you, I have enough. I want whatever will make you happiest. If you want children, I'll give you as many as you please. If you're afraid of the uncertainty of the future, then the two of us will have each other. Always. All I need to be happy is you."

He was just as concerned about the future as she was, even more so because the threat of the Swordmaster's prophecy was still hanging over his head. He didn't entirely believe the dragon's vow that he would no longer sacrifice those blessed by the goddess, and he was fully prepared to destroy the beast if he ever escaped the dimension of the mirror. Halea wished to save Anshar, but to what purpose? She was the last chosen sacrifice of Tiamet, and Varg was not about to let anyone take her away from him. She had sworn that she would never offer herself as a sacrifice again, but that didn't mean that if the dragon returned to his senses and resumed his duties, that he would not attempt to complete the ritual and kill Halea. Varg's greatest fear was of Halea successfully bringing the dragon out of his Chaos-induced madness. Though he never wished to oppose her, when it came to protecting her life, he would take any stand necessary to keep her alive.

Halea was aware that her success came at the risk of both her and Varg's lives. The only known way to stop a convergence was by sacrificing Tiamet's last chosen priestess, and if she died, Varg would die. She had sworn a vow that she would never willingly offer herself as a sacrifice again, and she could not break it, not when it would cost Varg his life too. The possibility was real, and it terrified her, but somewhere deep inside, she couldn't help but believe that there was another way. She wasn't sure how, but something had to change. Lord Anshar had tried to offer himself instead and failed, and now the Chaos Dimension was behaving erratically. Lord Anshar once believed there was something sentient behind the Chaos Dimension, and he had mentioned that a mysterious voice spoke to him while he was trapped in that dark dimension, forcing him to act against his will and lying to gain control over him. There was something behind all this. These dimensional tears were not just some strange anomaly of the universe. Somewhere, buried within Lord Anshar's shattered mind, laid the real answer. He must have experienced something while he was within the Chaos that held the key to what was really going on. She didn't want to bring him back just to force him to serve again; that wasn't what Lord Anshar wanted, or what she wanted. She wanted to bring him back because she knew he was their one hope for the truth, and that small gleam of hope was what kept her going. She would not give up.

She returned his embrace as relief and love drowned out the pain.

"I love you so much, Varg. I know you worry about the future too. I know you try to hide it, but it's okay. I'm not giving up. There's got to be an answer to all our problems that doesn't involve either one of us having to die, and once I find it, we can be free to share our lives together however we want. Maybe when that day comes, we can finally make use of that little extra room," she said with a bittersweet smile.

Though he hated hiding things from her, he was grateful that the severity of their situation was enough to mask his deepest fear – the prophecy. It wasn't that he didn't worry about the threat of the Chaos Dimension, but convergence or not, losing Halea was the end of the world for him.

"There's one more thing I want to show you," he said while guiding her to the bed.

"I've seen that surprise before," she replied with a raised eyebrow and an impish smile.

He chuckled as they lay together on their bed. "That surprise comes later, I'm referring to this," he said while pulling a cord that hung over their bed that connected to a series of pulleys attached to the sloped ceiling. A panel in the roof opened to reveal the clear blue sky above.

"You said you wanted to see the sky again. Well, there it is," he said while pointing up in amusement as she clasped her hands over her elated face.

"I can't believe you," she said while breaking into laughter.

"What? You don't like it?"

"I love it. I love everything here, especially you," she said while rolling over and wrapping her arms around his neck. He returned her embrace and deeply breathed her comforting scent. The bond they shared thrummed with happiness as they each committed this moment to their most treasured of memories.

"I remember when we were kids, and you once told me you'd live in a tree if you could. I never forgot it. Even then, your place was in the forest with me," he said while stroking his hand along the curve of her neck and admiring the mark that bound their souls together.

"I've never been happier anywhere else. The cold echoing marble halls of the castle in Antherose, and the overly-manicured gardens – no, I never belonged there. I wanted to be where the trees grew tall, and the grass was untamed, where little creatures made their nests in trees and burrowed beneath the earth, and where streams flowed through patches of ferns and wildflowers. I wanted to live in the same world as you."

He couldn't bear the overwhelming rush of joy that flooded his heart at her sweet words, and he quickly sealed her lips with his as longing echoed across their bond. Her soft flesh grew warm beneath his fingertips and the tantalizing smell of arousal fragranced the room. Her scent always called to him, even when she didn't realize it. Sometimes he would catch her looking at him with eyes dilated in appreciation, and the flutter of her heart was like music to his ears. When he was first becoming a young man, he had dreamed that he could affect her as strongly as she affected him. He craved her every time he looked at her. Her eyes shifted from fiercely determined to vulnerable and gentle in a way that made the wolf within him rage to protect her from the cruelty of the world. She trusted him with her heart and soul, and he treasured those gifts above all else. When she submitted herself to him, it pleased him, not because he had the power to possess her, but because she trusted him. She could surrender herself completely into his hands, and for that, he would fulfill her every desire.

"Will you trust me?" he asked as he pulled out the blindfold once more, and without hesitation, she nodded her head and allowed him to place the cover over her eyes.

He climbed on top of her and straddled her hips while slowly gliding his hands over the front of her robe until he reached the tie at her waist.

He fumbled with the knot for only a second before a rush of cool air caressed her newly exposed skin and her heart hammered in anticipation. Beneath her ribs remained a faint stripe of scars from her battle with Rafe, but they did nothing to lessen Varg’s desire for her.  His hands slowly glided back up her stomach where he held the small of her waist between his two hands and his thumbs gently massaged around her navel. A tingle shot up her spine as the edge of his long sharp claws slowly scratched against her skin. There was no pain, no burn or sting, just the pleasant sensation of being utterly comfortable and relaxed while also burning with desire deep from within her core.

She gasped as he continued to run the sides of his claws in gentle sweeps and circles along her stomach and up to her ribs. He wasn't breaking the skin because he wasn't using the tips, though the skin was slightly reddened from the gentle scratches. He tenderly cupped the underside of her plump round breasts before allowing his claws to rake around their full circumference.

Her lips parted, followed by a sharp intake of breath, and gooseflesh rose along her neck as he moved his thumbs over her nipples and slowly scratched across the rosy pink flesh causing them to grow taut and firm. She squirmed beneath him and wound her fists into the furs beneath them. The scent of her arousal, the beat of her heart, her breaths coming short and fast, and the flush in her face caused him to strain with need as he sat above her savoring the feel of her beneath his hands.

He leaned down over her, bringing his nose beside her face and teasing the lobe of one of her adorable rounded human ears with his lips. "Varg," she moaned, as her hands moved to reach up for him, but he quickly pinned them back beside her head.

"Shh, just submit," he purred into her ear, and he could sense her growing anxious with need.

He moved away just long enough to undress and then she felt him pulling her robe down past her shoulders. She pulled her arms free of the sleeves as he helped her out of her boots and the rest of her undergarments until she was entirely at his mercy.

His chiseled, strong body lay over hers as his claws continued to roam along her curves, and down, where they scraped along her thighs before parting them and slipping his fingers along her soft, wet fold and gently exploring.

She was panting in his ear as he slowly tortured her and she whimpered when he removed his hand to continue scraping his claws further down her leg. A jolt of electricity shot up her back as she felt him drag a single claw down the back of her calf and she cried out from the sensation that was so powerful her leg shook. He grinned wickedly as he held her leg from accidentally kicking him before leaning in and nibbling along the soft flesh of her thighs, and torturously upwards until he was delving into her most sacred of spaces. She squirmed and arched her back as wave after wave of hot pleasure pulsed within her while his hands roughly clasped her thighs and buttocks where again his claws softly scraped along her heated flesh causing shivers to course through her until she was nearly at the edge.

"Oh, Varg. Varg, please," she begged, but he was already beyond the edge of his limits. The red was seeping into his eyes as the beast within hungered and at the sound of her plea for release, he moved back up her body and entered her while wrapping her thighs around him and growling in relief to be joined.

He didn't protest when her hands reached up and wound within his hair and then down along his muscular shoulders as he moved against her at a languid pace that he knew would prolong her torment and make her beg.

"Quit holding back, you mangy wolf!" she practically growled, and he chuckled in amusement at her impatience.

"Tell me what I really want to hear," he said as she slowly peppered kisses along her throat before scraping his fangs along her mating mark.

"I submit," she professed in a breathy voice while tilted her head back and surrendering herself to her alpha. She could sense how much her words pleased him through their bond and the wild, untamed beast that roared with desire.

He wasted no more time before pummeling himself inside of her and piercing the surface of her flesh with his elongated fangs as he latched onto her mating mark. When they were first mated, he was afraid she wouldn't be able to handle his alpha nature, the untamed wolf that knew only blood and lust, but she never shied away from what he was. She never knew fear or pain or revulsion, only love and desire and need as he claimed her like the beast he was. She wanted him to be free within her arms, to offer him everything he needed, and in that she never failed. It was he, who was at her mercy and a slave to her desire. Even the rage within him crumbled at her whim as she was the only one with the power to truly tame him, and for her, he would surrender body and soul.

They came together with gasping breaths and shuddering spasms as they poured their love and desire into each other through their bond.

"Varg, I love you so much," she confessed while snuggling close beside him as they lay in bed staring up at the blue sky above.

"I love you too, always," he said before placing a soft kiss on her waiting lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A note from your humble author** : We finally get our tree house! If you enjoyed this chapter or the story so far, please feel free to let me know what you think. I love hearing from you guys and every comment you give me really brightens my day! Thank you so much for reading!


	4. Unanswered Questions

She cried bitterly, and it broke Uro’s heart. He could only imagine the depth of such despair if anyone had ever delivered the same devastating news to his own granddaughter when she was a young blessed hopeful.

“But I want to serve,” Jennifer cried while wringing her hands in her tunic sleeves. Her messy sandy-colored hair was stuck to her tear-stained face, and her large brown eyes shimmered in despair.

“I’m sorry, but Lord Anshar is not with us anymore. He was the only one with the power to bestow the Goddess’s gift of oath, and without that, you cannot serve as a priestess.”

“But she’s trained for years,” argued Samuel, her mentor cleric. Samuel was in his mid-thirties, with dull green eyes and a long, crooked nose. “Even without immortality and rapid healing, she would be a valuable servant for Tiamet. Just because Lord Anshar is no longer on our side, doesn’t mean Chaos isn’t still a threat. Let her perform the duties of a priestess for what years she can.”

“Even a mortal life is worth something. Make me a cleric if I cannot be a priestess,” the young acolyte begged.

“Clerics were always ordained by Lord Anshar or the High Priestess, but High Priestess Maven has been imprisoned since the beginning of winter, and normally it would be up to her to make such a judgment call. I may be a senior cleric, but I am still just a cleric. I don’t want to overstep my authority.”

“Are there no senior priestesses who can give their blessing?” Samuel asked.

“Perhaps I can write to Senior Priestess Gwen in the capital on your behalf. She will be the rightful successor to High Priestess Maven, but she’s been so preoccupied with the king’s council she hasn’t had much time to concern herself with our problems here in Antherose,” offered Uro.

“No one is here?” asked Jennifer.

“What’s left of our priestesses are out sealing tears in the wilds. Rangers have taken the castle. There’s just so few of us now…so few,” Uro Lamented, but his face suddenly shifted into a hardened resolve. “Perhaps, in our current predicament, none of that matters. You’re here. You’re blessed. You don’t need a uniform or a title to fight for our world, or my permission. I know all about the call, and if you really want to fight, then fight. Who’s going to stop you?”

A hopeful gleam dried Jennifer’s eyes as she nodded her head. Just because she didn’t have an official title didn’t mean she couldn’t serve Tiamet’s will, and though she was disappointed to not be made a priestess as she had always dreamed, nothing could keep her from answering the call of the Goddess. She would fight.

* * *

Uro leaned heavily on his rune-carved staff as he marched towards the castle with a sinking feeling of dread. He had been avoiding the home of Lord Anshar since the rangers arrived. The king's servants had a contentious relationship with the devotees of Tiamet even at the best of times, and he still resented them for turning his son from his calling. He had hoped to avoid them until Halea came to claim him, but now he had no choice, he had to meet with Edmond and Codeon.

He entered the halls of the castle and avoided making eye-contact with the rangers that wandered the premises. They were used to seeing the red-robed clerics coming and going and paid them little mind. Many clerics had returned to Antherose for lack of anywhere else to turn once the news spread that it was safe to come out of hiding. Many were directionless, panicked, and desperate due to the utter lack of leadership within their faith. They looked to senior clerics and any priestesses who passed through with hopeful eyes, but no one had any answers. No one knew what the future would bring, and everyone was frightened.

The news of Lord Anshar's miraculous capture by Halea was both a blessing and a grave concern. The Goddess had personally intervened, an occurrence that had not happened in ages. Times were desperate if Tiamet had to return to the mortal realm, and many wondered why she had chosen to reveal herself to Halea, who was known to have broken her oath and was no longer officially a priestess.

It was no mystery to Uro. Lord Anshar had always openly favored his granddaughter, and it was finally apparent that his interest in Halea went beyond the bond of pupil and mentor they once shared. The Goddess had come to Halea because she was the only person who had ever been permitted to come close to the stoic and reserved head of their faith. That was why they had agreed that it should be Halea who carried the mirror to the wolf shifter's territory where she could try to reason with their wayward lord. Tiamet had given her the power to open the dimension within the mirror, and so the Goddess wished for Halea to save her grandson. If anyone could reach him, it was Halea.

"Master Uro, thank you for coming," exclaimed Codeon when she looked up and noticed the elder's approach.

"Is she here?" he asked, skipping pleasantries and getting right to the point.

"Yes, I'm sorry. I know you didn't want her coming here, but the asylum was overflowing after so many unchecked tears and demon attacks. Edmond tried to secure her place at Weldison, but they insisted that she be transferred."

"Where is Edmond?"

"In the infirmary with Dean. If she had to be brought here, he insisted that Dean be transferred as well."

"I'm in his debt. I didn't want to leave her all alone in that place," Uro said before walking towards the infirmary with Codeon in tow.

When Uro entered the infirmary, he found it greatly rearranged. More hospital beds were rolled out, and chairs had been lined up along the stained glass windows where patients who suffered from Chaos Madness sat in a dazed stupor.

And there she was, slouching beside Edmond who read from the sacred text to both her and Dean as they stared blankly into nothingness.

"Theia?" Uro called, praying for a response, but the catatonic woman only drooled as her eyes remained unblinking.

"She has not spoken in a very long time," explained Edmond as he closed the sacred text and rose to greet the senior cleric with a comforting pat on the shoulder.

"Thank you, Edmond. I know you already had your hands full with Dean."

"Does Halea…"

"No! No, I don't want her to see this. There's nothing that can be done, just look at her. She must have been like this since the convergence that destroyed Ruinac."

"Why did it take her so long to be put in an asylum? Where has she been all this time?" pondered Edmond, who only knew that she had been found abandoned on the steps of the Weldison asylum.

"I don't know. It really makes no sense. How has she survived all these years? Someone must have taken care of her, but how she escaped the demon hordes that swarmed the ruined city, I'll never know. It doesn't seem possible. I know of no other survivors from the disaster."

It was a mystery that had been keeping Uro awake at night, but he had to accept that there would never be an answer. Only Theia herself could unravel such a mystery, but no one ever returned from Chaos Madness. No one.

All he could do was keep her survival a secret. Halea would be devastated if she knew her mother had survived to only live every day trapped in a waking hell from which there was no hope and no relief. It would have been more merciful for Theia if she had died.

"I'll ensure she receives the best of care after you leave, Master Uro," promised Edmond.

"Thank you. Halea told me I should want for nothing when I go to stay with her and the shifters, so I'm leaving the assets of my estate to ensure that Theia will always receive the highest quality of care."

"So, you're going, then?" Codeon asked.

"Yes. She should be coming to claim me in a few more weeks. I've seen to all my final affairs. There's nothing left for me here."

"What happens if Halea comes to the castle?" questioned Edmond with a concerned expression on his face.

"There's nothing for her here either, and to her knowledge, certainly nothing in the infirmary. There's no reason for her to come to this place again, and I'll ensure that she doesn't. Leave that to me."

Uro left the two clerics with his thanks and gave Theia one final look of remorse before heading into the hall when he noticed Favion up ahead in a heated exchange with a senior ranger.

Though Uro didn't wish to get involved, Favion called for him, and with a sigh of resignation, he approached the two men.

"Uro, my, it's been a while," the ranger exclaimed when he recognized the senior cleric.

"Greetings, Captain Mark. Still a ranger? Shouldn't you be well into your retirement by now?" Uro quipped in irritation. He remembered the Captain well, though he had more hair the last time he saw him and his face had been less weather-beaten. He had been one of Perion's superiors during his years as a ranger.

"Funny, I was thinking the same thing about you, but I'm glad that you're here. Favion has been filling me in about the situation with the High Priestess. I've received a damning statement from one of your other priestesses that she had a hand in the murdering of your people by your shifter lord. Would you like to provide your statement before we make the final arrangements to take her to Westvear for trial?"

Uro cast a questioning glance towards Favion who quickly explained. "Kalee stopped by yesterday. She didn't stay long, but she did speak with the rangers before setting out again."

"I can corroborate everything that has been reported by Favion and Priestess Kalee. High Priestess Maven colluded with Lord Anshar to murder several of our priestesses, as well as kidnapping myself and Favion and throwing us in the dungeon."

"These are serious crimes indeed, but I should have known. No therian is worth trusting. The old gods have long abandoned humans, and it's clear that Tiamet no longer cares for the suffering of man. She's no different than the other gods, and it was only a matter of time before her shifter progeny turned against us. And where is the Dragon Lord? He cannot escape the law forever," grumbled Captain Mark.

Tiamet was honored by many for being one of the few creator gods that had not turned their back on humanity, and for her servants who battled Chaos and the threat of the convergence, but there were also many others who chose to shun the old gods. Priestesses and clerics were greatly respected by some and distrusted by others. Even Lord Anshar was not immune to scrutiny and hatred. Though he had been a member of the king's council, many other lords and bureaucrats distrusted him and muttered behind his back about the deceptive and inherently evil nature of shifters. His invaluable service as their savior from the Chaos often meant little to mortals with short memories who rarely lived long enough to even see a convergence, which for ages only happened roughly every two hundred years, and, in the past, had always been swiftly and successfully banished. The disastrous convergence that had devastated the holy city of Ruinac had blackened the reputation of Lord Anshar and the Tiamet devotees. The recent surge in demon attacks and tear activity and the mysterious lack of intervention from the priestesses was leaving a poor impression throughout all the realm, and many in the capital were calling for Lord Anshar's head. Senior Priestess Gwen had been forced to confess to the king and council that the Dragon Lord was no longer fit to perform his duties, and the news that he had turned murderous had only confirmed many long-held suspicions on the true nature of therians – the only good shifter was a dead shifter.

"Tiamet herself has seen to his imprisonment, and only she has the power to free him," defended Uro, who despite Lord Anshar's crimes could not help but feel some loyalty and reverence for the man his lord had once been.

“And where is this prison?” asked Captain Mark with a scrutinizing glare, but Uro only met his burning eyes with hardened resolve and silence. Interrogating their High Priestess had only yielded an unreliable tale of magic mirrors and shifters, and he wanted to know if there was any truth to her ravings. “Aiding and abetting a murderer is also a crime, Uro,” threatened the senior ranger.

“I don’t precisely know. Lord Anshar is somewhere guarded by a pack of man-eating shifters out in the wilds. Good luck tracking him down. You can count this as my official statement, I must be on my way home,” Uro replied with finality.

Captain Mark's face reddened in frustration, but he said nothing more as the elderly cleric marched along his way.

* * *

Batsuba watched in amusement as Halea attempted to listen to the lungs of her squirming patient with the strange human object.

"Daisy, hold still for Wolfmother," Ulrica ordered, but the little girl was too preoccupied with the other cubs playing in the common area who she wished to join.

"It's all right; I've heard enough. I think she's over that bronchitis now and should be good to go play," Halea decreed as she tucked away her stethoscope.

"Are you sure? I still hear her coughing sometimes," fretted the over-protective mother.

"The residual cough will clear up soon. Her lungs are fine, and she's long over her fever; let her go play with Fillin," Batsuba interjected.

"But what if she gets the other cubs sick?" argued Ulrica.

"They were the ones who gave it to her," Batsuba replied. Spring colds and flus were common, especially among the cubs who insisted on running around underdressed for the somewhat still chilly season, but being therians, they recovered quickly and usually didn't experience as much discomfort as a human would. Daisy was in her third year, and like many cubs her age, she wanted to play with the bigger children and imitate their behavior. Her latest preoccupation was Fillin, who had recently learned to shift into his wolf form. Cubs often learned how to master the ability to change their shape at around four or five years, and once they knew their true forms, there was no containing them.

"Wumah, please?" begged the little girl with large and manipulative eyes.

"She's learning to pull rank, I see," commented Batsuba who struggled to keep a straight face as the cub pleaded with Halea.

Halea avoided requesting final approval from Ulrica. Though Daisy was Ulrica's daughter, Halea was the Wolfmother of the pack, and she would lose face is she consented to anyone beneath her rank. She had no choice but give the final word.

"Go play, but don't yank Fillin's fur this time," said Halea, and the young cub quickly toddled off to play with the older children.

Ulrica watched her daughter join the others wistfully. "She's getting so big, maybe by next year, she'll learn to change form too. Is it weird that I already miss that she's not a baby anymore?"

"They grow like weeds," agreed Batsuba as they all watched the little girl tagging along after the older cubs. The older cubs knew to not play too rough with the younger ones, and Fillin seemed to enjoy Daisy's admiration.

"Daisy will be such a cute wolf though," added Halea who practically squealed with delight the first time she saw Fillin in his newly discovered wolf form. She had been walking to her fire pit when the cutest little wolf cub came running up to her excitedly with its tail wagging and his tongue lolling out of his mouth. She had never seen such a tiny wolf before, and though lycans detested being compared to dogs, she couldn't resist thinking of the young wolf as an adorable little puppy. Varg was young when she first met him, but his wolf features had been somewhat more matured.

Fillin had been particularly pleased with his Wolfmother's delighted reaction to his changed form, and he would often make it a habit to come running up to her for attention, though Alpha Varg did tend to get annoyed if he did it too often.

Halea was just about to get up and leave the common area when Lyall approached. Varg was out on another hunt. The other packs would soon arrive for the gathering, and extra meat was being stored in ice cellars for the impending celebration. Varg had left Lyall with a small band of hunters to defend the den due to the ever-present threat of demons.

"Wolfmother," Lyall curtly greeted with his head bowed.

"You may speak, Lyall," Halea replied. She was used to Lyall being formal and standoffish. He had never approved of Varg mating a human. He had respected her as a priestess, and as Varg's mate, but even after all that she had done to prove herself; he still didn't quite consider her to be a part of their pack. Lyall would never dare to voice such disapproval, but it was always there in his posture and tone, and the way he went out of his way to avoid her unless absolutely necessary. Lyall had once been a close friend of Bledig, Varg's father, and Halea knew that he loved Varg like a son and was only looking out for his behalf, but she had hoped that with time he would set aside his prejudice.

Since slaying Rafe, the previous southern alpha, in single combat, none of the lycans openly opposed or challenged her position as Supreme Wolfmother, and many who had once doubted her had grown to respect her as a valuable member of their pack. There would probably always be a few who were reserved towards her, but as long as no one challenged her authority, she could live with that. To be honest, she was far better received than she had ever hoped, and many loved her and considered her their friend. Not even among humans, had she been so welcomed. Though the path to her acceptance hadn't been easy, for the first time since she was a child, she felt like she had a home. Soon her grandfather would be coming to stay with them, and thanks to her own time and contribution towards the pack, adding one more human presence to the den would be a little easier. Many disliked the idea of another human coming to stay, but nobody would complain or cause trouble at the risk of their Wolfmother's anger. Halea wasn't worried, she knew her grandfather would care little for whether or not he fit in among the wolves, and as long as no one harmed him, he would be fine to go about his business for the remainder of his life among the lycans.

"We've picked up a scent," reported Lyall.

"I'll get my spear and meet you at the edge of the den," Halea replied. It had been a few weeks since they last detected any demons, but she suspected such peace could not last forever. She ran back to her new tree-home and grabbed her spear; the weapon she was given for serving Tiamet as a priestess. Though she was no longer a priestess, it was still hers, and if needed, she would not hesitate to take up arms and fight against the servants of Chaos. She raced back to the edge of the den and found Lyall waiting with Hemming, Daciana, and Faolan.

"Let's go," she said, and Lyall shifted into his wolf form and began leading them out toward the scent trail. As Wolfmother, Halea would take charge of their little pack after they found their target, in the meantime, she did not mind relying on the powerful senses of the lycans to guide the way.

She could sense Varg's concern through their bond and did her best to convey that everything would be all right through her emotions. He still disliked the idea of her fighting without him, and he could never entirely stop worrying about her, but he was better at accepting that she was more than capable and could be trusted to manage any demon that invaded their lands while he was away.

They raced north through the forest where the tall oak trees grew thick around the edges of their hunting lands. The party came to a halt when Lyall stopped to sniff the ground, and Halea noticed fresh humanoid tracks. Most of the demons they found in the winter were of the weaker bestial variety, and Halea had not seen a single wraith since the last convergence. It appeared as if the eyeless humanoids had been replaced with the more dangerous black-eyed demons. These new servants of Chaos were far more intelligent and strong, and unlike all other demons, their senses did not diminish in the daylight.

Halea and the lycans followed the trail until both the tracks and the scent disappeared.

"Did it disappear into a tear?" asked Daciana.

"Demons aren't prone to closing tears. The rift would still be here," Halea replied while tightening her grip on her spear.

A dark shadow swooped in from overhead, and Faolan let out a scream as he was carried into the trees above by a humanoid demon with scale-covered wings. Acting quickly, Halea launched her charged spear into the air, narrowly missing the beast and causing it to falter and drop its prey. Faolan hit the ground with a sickening crunch and a blood-curdling scream as his leg snapped beneath him. Daciana rushed to Aatu's side as the beast dove in for another attack, and she fended the creature off with her razor-sharp claws. Halea raced into the trees to find her fallen spear while Lyall and Hemming circled their fallen comrade, but the winged demon chose to turn its black eyes on the human woman – its true target.

Halea gasped as the demon leaped down in front of her and unfurled its massive leathery wings before unsheathing a dark blade. The shape of the creature was unmistakably humanoid, but the face was distorted, and there was something familiar about its wings. Its mouth was filled with sharp silvery teeth, and its eyes were solid black and unblinking. It slashed its sword at Halea who only narrowed jumped back in time to avoid being gutted.

Reaching within her green robe, she produced the knife that Varg had given her for extra protection while managing to keep back from her advancing opponent. Charging her weapon, she brandished it, and the white light temporarily blinded the demon, who faltered long enough for her to grapple the beast and prevent it from swinging its sword once again. This demon was far stronger than any she had ever encountered, and she was nearly overcome when a giant wolf leaped onto the demon, tearing into the servant of Chaos with its fangs, causing it to drop its weapon, and brutally ripping one of its wings off as its black blood sprayed the forest floor. The creature let out a high-pitched shriek as it flailed and thrashed, but Halea seized the opportunity to throw her charged knife straight into the black-eyed demon's heart, causing it to burst into a flame of white that consumed it until there was nothing left.

Lyall shifted back into his humanoid form and spit the foul tasting demon blood from his mouth as Halea retrieved her knife and spear from the forest floor. "Are you all right?"

"Yes," she replied but stopped for a moment to observe the severed wing that remained on the ground. Kneeling down and using her spear, she turned the appendage over and examined the silvery white scales.

"Let's hurry and get Faolan back to the den," she added with one last cautious glance at the sky.

* * *

"Will it be healed in time for the Spring Moon Festival?" asked Faolan with a slur as he was still quite heavily sedated.

"You might have to miss the first couple days of events, but you won't miss most of it," was Batsuba's verdict as she packed up the last of her herbs while Halea finished wrapping a bandage around the plaster-covered splint on Faolan's leg.

"More wins for me!" Aatu declared with a smug grin. The beta male had begged to be let in to see his injured friend the moment Batsuba and Halea were done setting the break.

"Don't make me put you out," grumbled Batsuba who gave Aatu a warning glare on her way out of Faolan's cave.

The beta sheepishly bowed his head in submission to his elder before quietly taking a seat next to his friend's bed.

"Just a few more minutes, Aatu, he's falling asleep," Halea advised as she propped up Faolan's injured leg. Faolan only blinked lazily as his friend sat there with him in companionable silence. Once Halea was satisfied that her patient was well and rested, she made her way back outside and squinted in the bright daylight. Varg and his hunting party had not yet returned from the hunt, but she could sense that they were on their way.

As she made her way along the path back towards the den, Lyall approached and bowed his head.

"You may speak, Lyall."

"How is he?"

"Sleeping - or he will be soon. Aatu is keeping him company, and he'll be up and running again in about a week. By the way, thanks for the help with that demon."

"Pack looks after pack," he replied matter-of-factly.

"Lyall, can I ask you something?"

The older warrior nodded his head, but his expression was guarded.

"I'm technically a part of this pack, but you don't treat me like the others. I know you still don't really like me because I'm a human. I suppose you don't have to like me if you don't want to, but is there nothing I can do?"

Lyall frowned and avoided her gaze as he took a moment to carefully gather his thoughts. "You think my dislike for you is personal, or because you are human, but that is not entirely why."

"Then what is it? What did I do?" she asked.

"It's what you haven't done. Varg is very dear to me. His father was like my brother, and I want the best for my Supreme Alpha. I don't doubt that you have an alpha's will, but I doubt that you are capable of being a Wolfmother worthy of someone like Varg. When he claimed you, you cared little for this pack, at first. He carried the burden of his leadership alone, and it's not right for an alpha to have a mate who does not support him. I have to admit that since then, you have come far, and you've learned to contribute and be more supportive of Varg. I was surprised when he told me that you had agreed to manage the Spring Moon Festival and the gathering. Varg works very hard for this pack, for all our people. I want him to have a Wolfmother who is worthy of such a great leader. Perhaps you have that potential, and I see that you are trying, and I know Varg has been more than patient with you, but until you prove that this pack is as important to you as it is to him, as far as I'm concerned, you are a Wolfmother in name only."

Anger burned hot within her, followed by bitter disappointment, and she sensed Varg's concern across their bond. She wanted to argue that she did care about the pack, that there were many who she counted as dear friends. She had fought for them and alongside them since before she and Varg had been mated, and her choice to become a healer was driven by her desire to help the lycans and to be a contributing member of the pack, and still, it was not good enough. She wondered if there was any female in the world, lycan or not, that would be worthy enough for Varg in Lyall's eyes. But, though she hated to admit it, he did have a point. She had not wanted the responsibility of an alpha when she and Varg were first mated. She had not felt that it was her place to assume control over a people to whom she had not been born, and she had struggled to learn and accept many of their ways and to rise up to what was expected of her as the mate of their Wolf King. It hadn't been easy, and even now, it seemed as if she still had a long way to go, and she fought back the sting of tears that threatened the corners of her eyes.

"I see. Thank you for being honest with me. Perhaps someday I will live up to your expectations," she said while quickly walking past him before her emotions could betray the depth of how much his words had wounded her.

When Halea reached the common area, she found Varg rushing towards her with an angry frown on his face.

"What happened? Who hurt you?" he growled.

"It's okay, Varg. I'm fine. It was my fault for bringing it up."

"Bringing what up? Is someone in the pack giving you trouble again? You have my permission to beat the hell out of them, you know," he grumbled as he took her in his arms. She did seem a little calmer, but he could sense that she didn't want to discuss it with him, and he suspected the cause of what had upset her.

"Do I have to break his nose again?"

"No!" she cried. "Come on, Varg. Please. Please, just let him be. He does me no harm."

"No harm! I smell dry tears."

"No real harm. Please, Varg. It's been a trying day. Just let it go. There's something more important right now."

Varg narrowed his eyes in irritation. She had always been one to avoid her problems, and it never did her any favors, but he decided to relent rather than upset her further.

"I was told about the demon attack and of Faolan's broken leg. How is he?"

"He'll be fine. It was that demon we fought today - it was different. I mean, they're always different, but this time, it had wings. They almost looked like something you'd see on a dragon."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A note from your humble author** : DUN DUN DUN! There's a mystery afoot! Several mysteries. We've got another angsty Lord Anshar coming up next. WOO HOO!
> 
> So while marketing book 2, I thought it'd be a good idea to give away free advance review copies of books 1 & 2 on NetGalley. Big mistake. I got a bunch of crap reviews for Blood Bound on Goodreads now from people who either didn't bother to read the book at all but threw up sub-par reviews to meet the NetGalley terms, or only read book 2, but didn't bother to read book 1, so they had no idea what was going on or any connection to the characters. Needless to say, this threw me into a nasty depression for a few days. If any of you have even a moment to spare, please drop a review for Blood Bound on Goodreads. I will gladly say thank you with a sexy Lord Anshar cut scene and you will have my eternal gratitude.
> 
> Also, my apartment building nearly burned down yesterday. The fire department was able to put it out before it got out of hand, but I assure you I grabbed my laptop with all my manuscripts on it as I was fleeing the building. I also store them in email and flash because I've always had a paranoid fear of my stuff getting lost, stolen, or destroyed, and I guess that paranoid precaution paid off. I'm okay, my apartment and all my stuff are okay. Nobody in the building got hurt. I've just been having a hellava time lately. On the plus side, the paperback for Blood Bound should be ready soon. There's nothing more special and satisfying than holding your physical book in your hands.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who's been reading the story, you guys mean the world to me! 3


	5. Dragon's Blood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A note from your humble author** : Special thanks to Sabryna for leaving me a review for Blood Bound on Goodreads. You have no idea how much that lifted my spirits. I sent you the link to the Lord Anshar bonus scene through your Goodreads. If you didn't get it, please feel free to hit me up through my email j@jmriddles.com and I'll be sure to get you that link. Thank you again!

She pulled the cover from the mirror and sat down. The surface was dark again, but she didn't expect him to be there waiting. Lord Anshar hadn't spoken since vowing to never again perform a sacrifice, but now he had to speak. He was the only one with any answers.

"Lord Anshar, it's me, Halea. I'd like to speak with you."

Silence.

"Lord Anshar, I know you can hear me. Please, I need your help. Something strange has been happening lately. Ever since you disappeared into the Chaos, the demons have changed. They're smarter now, stronger, and their forms…" she paused as she struggled to explain the nature of their foes.

"They can change shape. They have eyes now. Sometimes the eyes are just black, and other times they're able to pass for human. Today I fought a demon, and it had wings – dragon wings. Why? Why is this happening? You have to know something."

Silence.

"Talk to me!" she shouted in frustration.

"It's because of me, Halea," came his weak voice.

"Lord Anshar, what do you mean?"

Another moment of silence passed, and then his image appeared within the mirror. He had taken off his armor and cloak, and as he removed off his linen shirt before her, tears poured from her eyes.

His body was mutilated.

Even Varg didn't have scars and marks such as the ones she saw upon Lord Anshar's flesh. Many times he had raved about claws that tore into him or the horror of smelling his own blood, but she had assumed it was all the imaginings of his madness because he cried out as if he were still being tortured.

"Is this what it did to you?" she asked in a shaking voice.

He only nodded his head; his eyes refusing to meet hers in shame as he slowly pulled his shirt back over his scarred skin. "It took my blood. It took so very much. Even now, I still feel those invisible claws tearing into me. The pain. My blood and life were worth more than my death. A useful servant to hunt the blessed where it could not. A puppet. A fool."

"I'm so sorry, Lord Anshar."

"Don't pity me, Halea. I told you I don't want it! I deserve every mark upon my flesh and every bit of suffering that I've endured. Why can't you see that? Everything that has happened is my fault! This all happened because I was too weak to perform the duty that was expected to me. I should have struck Priestess Ami down when I had the chance, but I faltered, and because I hesitated to claim one life countless others were lost, including your mother. It's my fault she's dead, Halea. Her blood is on my hands! Everyone's blood is on my hands! The weight of the world rests on my shoulders, and I was weak. You should have hated me. Why? Why didn't you hate me?" he asked with a trembling voice.

Halea's hands quivered in her lap as she absorbed his anguish.

"I thought about it," she confessed. "I thought about what my life would have been like if that day had gone differently. I've spent years thinking about that day. Nightmares. Never-ending nightmares of the city being swallowed by the sea and the convergence in the sky. Imagining what my mother must have endured…before she died. Yes, you were weak. Yes, you should have performed the sacrifice, and your mistake took my mother from me. But…it was a mistake. It wasn't your fault; it was the fault of Chaos. That attack was planned. I refuse to believe that if those tears had not opened up over the citadel, that you wouldn't have performed your duty as planned. I saw it in your eyes when you sacrificed Priestess Bree, you hated the killing. You hated what you were forced to do. You didn't want to sacrifice anyone, and you fought to protect so many that day, including me. And the more I thought about it, I realized that if I were in your position, I would have done the same thing. I would have hesitated. I would hate to be forced to endure what you were made to endure for ages. It wasn't fair that Tiamet put such a burden on your shoulders. It wasn't fair that you weren't allowed to show compassion or mercy. It wasn't fair that you had to endure such an existence for ages without any hope for an end to the suffering. It just wasn't fair. And I felt sorry for you. So very, very sorry. I know you don't want my pity, but I couldn't hate you then, and I can't hate you now. For all that you are, to me, you are just a man, and everyone is weak at times – even you."

Instead of being comforted, he only snarled at her words. "I damned the world for you, Halea. I don't deserve your pity. I risked everything just to save your life. I may have hesitated the first time, but for you, I willingly chose to risk the world. And I would do it again. I don't give a damn about anything anymore! Either the world will be remade, or we will all perish in fire. And don't think for even one second, that if I get an opportunity to make you mine, that I won't take it. At this point, taking one more life won't matter, and I told you that wolf cannot keep you."

"I know you're just saying that to make me hate you! Say whatever horrible things you want. I'm not giving up!" she shouted back at him before jumping up and rushing out the tree-dwelling door.

* * *

"Wolfmother? Uh…I mean, Halea?" Ulrica said while waving her hand nearly in front of Halea's face.

"Sorry, I guess I drifted off. It's been a long day," Halea finally replied as she shook herself out of her brooding thoughts. She hadn't even touched her plate of lunch that sat beside her on the fire pit bench.

After her last encounter with Lord Anshar the day before, she had sunk to her knees beneath the tree where the mirror was kept and cried her eyes out. It took a long time to quiet her emotions enough for her to reopen her bond with Varg. Varg hated how she was always so emotionally drained and upset after every visit with Lord Anshar, but despite the toll the sessions with the dragon took on her nerves, she had to persist. He had revealed some vital information to her. There was something, or someone, controlling the convergence. They had taken Lord Anshar's blood and used it to empower the demons and make them more deadly. It had also used Lord Anshar to hunt the priestesses, and it clearly still had some influence over his mind. Who? Why? What did it want? What did it have to gain by destroying their world? The more answers she received, the more questions remained, and she longed to speak with her grandfather.

She and Varg had agreed that her grandfather would be brought to the den after the Spring Moon Festival. It was best to introduce him to life among the lycans slowly with just one pack at a time, and now more than ever, she needed his wisdom. Her grandfather was one of the most knowledgeable clerics to have ever served Tiamet and perhaps he could provide some insight into this new information. She certainly wouldn't mind having his help when it came to Lord Anshar. She wasn't sure how much more she could take, and perhaps her grandfather would prove more skilled at extracting the information they needed.

"I was just saying that Ralphina and I have finished cleaning and preparing the caves for the arrival of the other alphas."

"Thank you so much for helping me, Ulrica. I don't know what I'd do without you guys," Halea halfheartedly smiled in gratitude. She had spent the past two weeks working non-stop to prepare for the festival-gathering and making sure everything would be ready for the arrival of the other packs. She knew it would be a lot of work, but hadn't anticipated just how much until she was in the thick of it all, and it made her feel horrible to know how much Varg once had to manage all alone. It made her relive the sting of Lyall's words, but it also made her more determined to ensure the gathering would be a success. She would prove to everyone that she was a capable and worthy Wolfmother.

"Please ask Aatu to clean out the north-end cellar to make more room. Varg said the hunting party should be bringing in a considerable amount of wild boar, and it won't preserve well if it isn't kept cold until the gathering."

Ulrica agreed with a nod and was just getting up when Daisy came running over.

"Muh! Muh!" the little girl shouted as she offered her mother a fist full of half-wilted wildflowers. "Pretty! Smell!"

Ulrica knelt down and indulged her daughter, who smiled brightly at her mother's attention.

"Are you done playing?" Ulrica asked.

"No!" pouted the toddler who stomped her foot in sudden irritation. It was getting close to her nap time, and Ulrica was already dreading the struggle she was about to have. When Ulrica reached to grab Daisy's hand, she shied away and hid behind Halea with a sulking expression.

"Daisy!" Ulrica called, but the little girl pretended to ignore her mother and instead turned her attention to Halea's plate, which contained fresh fruit and a couple of sweet biscuits. She grabbed one of the biscuits and took a bite.

"Mmm. Yummy!"

Halea just watched and tried not to look too amused by the young cub's antics. She didn't want to encourage her disobedience towards her mother, but seeing the little she-wolf eating human food with such relish was rather unexpected. Most lycans, even young cubs, preferred raw meat, and very rarely willingly partook in other foods, and she wasn't entirely able to conceal her surprised reaction.

"Daisy, those are Wolfmother's! I'm sorry. She gets that from her father. Gerwulf was strange too. He liked fruit and especially honey, anything sweet."

"Really? That's good to know," Halea said with a mischievous twinkle in her eye as she imagined spoiling the little girl with sweet treats behind her mother's back. Perhaps she'd be able to make more use of her new cooking station after all.

Ulrica wasn't sure what had shifted her Wolfmother's mood, but she hadn't seemed offended by the cub's antics. Halea insisted that Daisy take the last sweet biscuit with her, and the offering placated the cub enough for her mother to finally carry her away for her nap without further protest.

Halea watched them go with a pang of sadness. She enjoyed the company of children vicariously through the other mothers, but it wasn't the same, and she stared regretfully at her contraceptive rune. She was due to be in heat again soon, and it would be poor timing because the gathering was sure to be in full swing. Due to Rafe's attack in the fall, and all that transpired afterward, she had been unable to gather enough of the yellow vine that the lycan female's used for contraception before winter set in. She could have asked Batsuba for some of the dried herbs from her stores but decided to rely instead on her rune. Now that she and Varg had finally settled into their new home, which had its own private hot spring, she had to once again consider the necessity of back-up measures, but she was never-endingly distracted by the preparations of the impending festival and the demands of her healer apprenticeship.

Before she could ruminate much longer, she noticed Batsuba approaching with her medicine bag, and snatching one last piece of fruit from her plate, she went to join the elder for her lesson.

* * *

The hunters had just finished gutting the three massive boars and were preparing to carry back the heavy slabs of meat when Varg noticed a shadow overhead that immediately set him on edge. He no longer had to fear the dragon, but with the demons demonstrating the ability to fly he was extra cautious of threats from above when he noticed something floating gently down on a breeze – an enormous, single black feather.

"Varg, what is it? Is it a demon?" asked Lycurgus.

"No, it's something else. Everyone, go on to the den without me. Let Halea know I will be there soon."

Lyall gave him a look of reluctance as he sniffed the air, detecting an unfamiliar scent, but the look in his alpha's eyes warned that he would broach no argument, and so he turned and left with the others.

Varg moved further into the trees, into the direction of the shadow, and there he found the crow.

"It's you. Why have you come to the western lands?" Varg asked while putting up a block on his bond with Halea so she wouldn't notice the sinking sense of dread within him.

A massive black crow with unblinking reflective eyes stared down at him from where it perched on high within a tree. The crow shifted into his humanoid form, leaving only his oily black wings which he used to gracefully lower himself to the ground where he stood before the Wolf King.

"A vision has brought me here," Corbin replied.

"I've had quite enough of those," grumbled Varg.

"It's not for your mate this time, but for an old friend, a friend to us both – Ethelwolf."

"Ethelwolf? What have you seen?"

"A tear is coming, far larger than any you've seen of late. Everyone will be in danger once the demons spill forth, and Halea must be there to seal the rift, or many lives will be lost. In my vision, I saw the eastern alpha swarmed by the hordes. I'm sorry, after that, I cannot say, but I had to come. You may share this prophecy with Halea, but you cannot speak of it with Ethelwolf or anyone else. The knowledge of the gods is forbidden to most for a reason."

Varg's brow furrowed in distress. Ethelwolf was as dear to him as a father, and he was a good alpha and a close friend.

"At the first sign of danger, Halea and I will be there. If we can prevent this, we will."

"You can prevent nothing. My visions are never wrong, but perhaps there is hope that the outcome will not be so grim, though the fact that I was warned by the gods at all does not bode well."

Varg snarled as Corbin's words cut deeper than just the prospect of losing the eastern alpha. He had spoken of the crow's prophecy to no one, and hiding the truth from Halea had been nearly impossible due to their bond. "You don't have to remind me of the accuracy in the god's cruelty. I have lived every day since your last vision in fear for my mate's life. My only comfort is the knowledge that if they take her from me, I can at least be with her in the afterlife - small comfort though that is."

"Are you so sure of that, Varg?" asked Corbin while quizzically cocking his head to the side.

"What do you mean? Of course, I'm sure! Our spirits are bound as one. Lycans always follow their mates into the next world."

"But she is not a lycan. You have the favor of the wolf gods, who will surely come to claim your soul when you die, but why would they claim Halea? She is not a wolf. If any god has a claim on her soul, it would be Tiamet. Very few are fortunate enough to have more than one god come to claim them in the afterlife, and for those souls, they have the right to choose which god they will follow into the heavenly realm. A soul can choose whether or not it is ready to be judged and claimed, and by which god, or it can choose to willingly throw itself into the oblivion."

"I have submitted my will to the gods and will serve them as I have promised; all I ask is to be with her, either in this world or the next. And if they will not admit her into the heavenly realm beside me, then I will sooner choose the oblivion of hell than to spend an eternity in heaven without her. If they truly want me, they must take her too!"

Corbin smiled in sad fondness.

"Take comfort then, the wolf gods love their children. Though humans and lycans do not often mix, the bond of love between a mated pair is something even they know they cannot challenge. As long as Halea does not offend them, I'm sure they will offer her a place beside you."

The possibility that another god could sway Halea's soul unsettled him as he knew the Dragon Goddess still called to his mate, but she had already chosen him over Tiamet the day she agreed to be his. He took comfort in knowing that if anyone could impress the wolf gods and earn an honorary place among them, it was Halea. Despite her remaining doubts, he knew she had everything it took to be a Wolfmother.

"One way or another, we will be together," Varg affirmed.

"The gods have shown me how much you two have overcome together. I know of the capture of Lord Anshar within the dark mirror and that you were able to stand against him as a true swordsman. This old bird is proud," he said with a dry laugh.

Varg couldn't suppress the smile that tugged at the corner of his lips at the crow's praise. "I couldn't have done it without Halea by my side, and you knew, didn't you?"

Corbin's creepy thing lips spread in what passed for a smile upon his gaunt face as he merely nodded his head.

"I'm not a fan of your damn prophecies, but I am grateful that you chose to help me. Both for training me to use the Fang, but also for helping me to see what I should have always seen standing there before me; that Halea is my strength. Thank you."

"The gods are wise," said Corbin as he accepted Varg's gratitude. When the young lycan first came to him, he had been ruled by his instinct and ego, but now he stood before him as a wiser and more humble king. "I must return to my duties, there are many souls to be carried. Remember my warning and watch over Ethelwolf for me."

"I will," promised Varg, and with that, the crow spread his wings and transformed as he soared into the air, back towards the east.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A note from your humble author** : Poor Lord Anshar! Am I done tormenting him? Probably not. Corbin has made another appearance. I love writing his creepy ass. Some of you may have noticed that I moved the location of the dark mirror from a cave to a tree. Yes, I had to go back and change that. I thought I'd have them move him later, but it makes more sense for Varg to just not want him so close to the den to begin with. Small detail...or is it? Next chapter - Spring Moon Festival-Gathering! We're going to see the return of many characters, including some characters that were introduced in Book 1 but didn't have a chance to make an appearance in Book 2. The next three chapters are going to be VERY character heavy and the pacing may seem more drama-heavy than action-heavy, but bear with me, I'm building up to something and setting up a lot of things for later. Also, having already written the next few chapters - WHY THE HELL DID I WRITE SO MANY CHARACTERS? I'm just going to have to start killing some of these people off cause this is getting ridiculous.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! You guys are awesome! Please let me know what you think of Wolfmother so far.


	6. Spring Moon Festival

Halea rolled over in bed to find that Varg had already risen for the day and slipped out. Being a lycan, he didn't need as much sleep as her, but he always did his best to make sure his morning duties were taken care of as quickly as possible so he could still join her for breakfast at the fire pit. This morning, she had slept-in after a fitful, sleepless night of worry.

Varg had told her of his visit with the Swordmaster and his prophetic warning about Ethelwolf, and that the knowledge was to be kept between the two of them. They had agreed it would be best to post an extra guard of warriors around the den during the festival and Halea would personally do her best to not stray far in case a tear should open. If this tear was large enough for the Swordmaster to fly all the way from the east to warn them about it, she wasn't confident that she would be powerful enough to subdue it on her own. She wished the other priestesses were there to help her, but without Rufus, she had no way to contact them, and Mama Dragon wasn't due to arrive back in lycan territory until after the gathering. She had lain awake most of the night offering silent prayers to Tiamet to give her strength and Varg had tried his best to comfort her.

Varg rose early to manage the warriors and ensure that in the event of a demon attack, everyone would evacuate the den in an orderly manner. Many were concerned with their alpha's precautions, but he wouldn't speak as to what had prompted his sudden apprehension.

Halea was just putting on her boots when she heard Varg's voice.

"Halea? Oh, you're awake," he said while stepping through their bedroom door. "Great, the northern pack has arrived. I would have howled to let you know, but I didn't want you to misinterpret the call as trouble."

Halea was used to some of the lycan howls, particularly the ones that warned of danger. Almost as if they were a second language, there was a nuance and variety of meanings to the calls that she wasn't always able to distinguish. After last night's warning, she was particularly on edge about the prospect of hearing howls in the distance, and now she had another stress to deal with.

He sensed a little hesitance and dread from his mate but was quick to wrap his arms around her in comfort. Halea had not seen the northern wolves in nearly a year, and she didn't know them as well as the western and eastern packs.

"Everything will be fine," he promised.

"I know," she said while forcing a nod and straightening her spine. If she was going to act the part of a Wolfmother, she needed to exude total confidence and authority. Such willpower hadn't come easy at first because she had feared it wasn't her place to rule over Varg's people, but when it came to lycans, one could not be timid, and eventually, she had learned to assert herself and stand tall against any who opposed her. To her surprise, it had grown easier. Fulfilling the expectations of an alpha had become second nature to her, at least when it came to the western pack.

As they walked together back towards the den, Halea gradually began to make out the excited commotion that signaled the arrival of the northern pack. Many lycans came out to the common area to greet their northern friends and relations, and everyone was standing around in large social clusters talking animatedly and sharing warm hugs of welcome and friendly slaps on the back.

Varg led her to Alpha Bertolf, who, much to Halea's relief, bowed his head respectfully before his Supreme Alphas.

"Welcome, brother Bertolf. It's good to see you again," offered Varg and Bertolf lifted his head at his king's acknowledgment.

"Greetings, Wolf King, and Supreme Wolfmother. Thank you for welcoming my pack into the west."

"Well, enough of this formal bullshit," Varg said with a laugh and Bertolf's face lit up with a bright smile as the two males warmly embraced and thumped each other on the back.

Halea couldn't help but envy how quickly Varg could go from austere leader to casual chum, but she smiled and relaxed a little at the two male's affectionate display.

"It's been too long since we've all gathered for a Spring Moon Festival. I'm dying to compete in some games and see if you can kick my ass half as much as your father used to."

"Don't worry, I won't go easy on you," Varg replied with an excited gleam in his eyes. Alphas loved to compete, and the festival games allowed the wolves to enjoy friendly competitions with each other.

"Please join us at our fire pit for some food and ale. I'm sure you would love to relax and catch up with Varg after your long journey," Halea offered with her warmest smile. Her festival volunteers were already serving refreshments to the other members of the northern pack.

Bertolf was not put off by Halea's human presence. He had accepted Varg's choice just as he accepted his own brother choosing to mate with the human woman Jance. Human women were weird, very different from she-wolves, but from what he could tell, no less loving of their mates. He had spent the past few weeks exchanging several runners with Halea who had orchestrated the details of the festival as a good Wolfmother should, and he had been impressed by her initiative. Bertolf was an old bachelor, and not having his own Wolfmother, he had to assume sole responsibility for his pack in preparation for the gathering. Some were left behind to keep watch over the den and those incapable of making the long journey, but most chose to make the trek from the north to attend the gathering.

With a grateful nod, he accepted his Supreme Wolfmother's kind offer and joined her and Varg at the main fire pit where several platters or raw meat were brought out, and ale was poured into tankards. There was no need to light the fire because the day was warm and bright, but the pit was no less cozy.

Rather than sitting in Varg's lap, as he usually preferred, she cuddled up close beside him, and he wrapped one of his arms around her shoulder. She was finally growing more comfortable with the public displays of affection so common among lycan mates.

Bertolf and Varg immediately began a lively conversation about the upcoming festivities to which Halea only interjected on occasion, and she was relieved that spending time with the northern alpha was far more pleasant this time than when they first met. He hadn't been cruel or disrespectful, but he had been far more standoffish and unsure about her presence when she was only a priestess.

As they sat at the pit, Halea noticed someone waving in the distance in an attempt to get her attention. The face was hard to make out from so far away, but the flaming red hair was unmistakable, it was Jance.

"I think I see someone who wants to say hello. You two carry on," she said while excusing herself from the alphas.

The short redhead came running up to her excitedly the moment she left the pit and threw her arms around her in a big hug.

"Halea, I'm so glad to see you again, or, I guess I should say Wolfmother now. Either way, it's good to see you!"

"Halea is fine. We'll let the wolves be formal."

Jance beamed excitedly at the thought of two humans living among lycans who didn't have to adhere to their customs, at least not when around each other, and she laughed in relief.

"I was hoping I could get your attention, but I'm not allowed to interrupt the alphas unless invited. Thank goodness I'm not an alpha. How do you stand it?"

"It took some getting used to," Halea confessed.

"You must be amazing to pull off being a Wolfmother! Even Bertolf praised you for managing this festival and helping to bring us all together. I'd be terrified if that were all on my shoulders."

"Where's Alf?" asked Halea.

"Having festival fever with all these other crazy males. I don't care for sports, but Alf hasn't talked about anything else since this gathering was announced. I'm honestly grateful to get a break from it and just talk with another human for a change."

Halea smiled at the other woman's lively banter before escorting her to a small unoccupied fire pit where Jance wasted no time unloading her travel bag of all the delicacies she had baked for the occasion.

Jance had not forgotten how much Halea enjoyed her food the last time they met, and she had outdone herself by bringing sweet cakes, biscuits, tarts, turnovers, and several other treats.

"Wow, you made all these! I don't know if just the two of us can eat them before they spoil," Halea said as she mouthwateringly eyed one of the tarts.

"We can make a valiant effort of it!" Jance declared, and the two women laughed.

They sat together and talked about their experiences with life among the lycans and Halea was glad to have found such a dear kindred spirit. There was never a dull moment listening to Jance.

Ulrica approached and offered them some tea to wash down their repast, and Jance squealed in delight when she noticed little Daisy peeking out from behind her mother as she clutched to her leather skirt. The cub regarded the new human woman with large and bashful eyes, and when Jance noticed her, she shied behind her mother.

"Oh, she's so adorable. Is that your cub?" asked Jance.

"Yes, her name is Daisy," Ulrica replied with a smile as she was always happy when anyone acknowledged her precious daughter. "Daisy, it's okay. You can say hello."

The bashful toddler only peeked out a little before ducking behind her mother once more.

"Here, offer her a cake," suggested Halea.

"Cake?" Jance cried in incredulity, but despite her doubts, she held the sweet treat towards the lycan cub who appeared from behind her mother. Her small button nose twitched as she sniffed the air and took a shy step towards the cake.

To the redhead's amazement, the little she-wolf accepted the confection from her outstretched hand and immediately took a bite. Her face lit up in joy as the sugary food melted on her tongue, and she greedily began to eat the rest while plopping onto the ground beside Jance and Halea.

"Say thank you, Daisy," admonished her mother, but when the little girl opened her mouth, it was too full of food to make out much more than an incoherent mumble of gratitude.

"Well, I've never seen a lycan cub like human food before!" Jance cried. "But I love it! Oh, please let us feed her some more," she begged to Ulrica who nodded in permission. Ulrica didn't know the northern human, but Daisy was more than safe in the care of her Wolfmother, and with a gentle kiss to her daughter's forehead, she went along with her duties.

"More!" Daisy cried once she finished her snack and held out her sticky little hand, and Halea and Jance were more than happy to indulge her in a few more biscuits.

"I've never met such an unusual little cub before," Jance declared. "I would love to keep spoiling her, but I suppose we shouldn't give her too much more or she'll get a tummy ache and won't have room for her dinner."

"Yes, I suppose you're right," Halea agreed as Daisy munched her treats contentedly while wiggling her bare feet in front of her.

"If Alf and I could have had children, I wonder if that's what they'd be like. Having my human sweet-tooth, I mean."

"You two haven't had any?" Halea asked. Jance, though made immortal by being bound to her mate's life-force, was not exactly young, at least not by human years. She was in her forties, though she would forever be frozen in her twenties.

"I was pregnant once, but I'm not a very physically strong person, or maybe there's just something wrong with me on the inside. It was a difficult pregnancy. I lost the baby and nearly bled to death," Jance explained as her dark eyes grew moist. "Our healer warned me that another pregnancy could be the end of my life. After that, we decided not to risk it again. Alf couldn't bear the thought of losing me, even though I know he wanted children as much as I did, but I guess the gods have decided that it's not meant to be for us. Even if we can't have children, we have each other."

Halea's heart bled as she watched Jance's face contort with the memory of her loss.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."

"No, it's okay. That was many years ago, and I don't mind just being able to spend time with the cubs when I can. I even learned the lycan's written language so I could help teach the little ones to read it," she said with a proud twinkle in her eyes.

Infused with an abundance of energy, Daisy ran off to chase Fillin, and the two women chatted together as the day wore on.

Eventually, Halea had to excuse herself to go attend to the preparations for the evening meal. As she passed through the den, she noticed Batsuba looking annoyed as she stood before a tall and lanky lycan male who spun to face her as she approached and Halea recognized that it was the northern elder, Marrok.

"Priestess Halea! I mean, Wolfmother. Supreme Wolfmother! My alpha. My queen! Let me grovel at your feet!" he proclaimed as he tried to get down on his knees, but Batsuba grabbed him by one of his long pointed ears and pulled him back up.

"Oh, stop it, you old fool!" she grumbled.

"It's good to see you again, Elder Marrok," Halea greeted with an awkward smile. Marrok was still one of the strangest lycans she had ever met. He did not usually act as one would expect from an elder. There were moments when his fathomless ancient eyes would grow serious, and his voice would become commanding in a way that instantly garnered the respect of all those all around him, but at other times, he could be almost childlike.

"Batsuba has told me amazing things about you. Simply amazing! I knew you were special the moment I saw you. Didn't I say she was special, Batsuba?"

The she-wolf only regarded him with narrowed eyes and a frown.

"See! She remembers!" he said while nudging the unamused healer with his elbow and earning a growl from her in response.

"If you are quite done, Marrok, you could help me set up the altar in the sacred cave," grumbled Batsuba. Soon the other pack's elders would arrive, and they would all convene in private to hold rituals before the wolf gods to ask for blessings for the festival and the new year.

"They're not here yet! I want to praise our Wolfmother. Ow!" he cried as Batsuba grabbed his ear once more and began dragging him off.

"You best run along, Halea," she said over her shoulder. "He's too excitable, and there's work to be done."

Halea did her best not to burst out laughing as she watched the two elders bicker as they made their way up the mountain path before she turned to resume her duties.

As the sun sank in the west, the pit fires were lit, and Halea was once again seated with Varg and Bertolf. She listened in grave silence as Bertolf explained the woes of the northern wolves.

"The demons have begun to scatter our herds. A priestess came and sealed the tear we found on our lands, but she said she couldn't stay long. The evil creatures returned the moment we were left on our own, and they're harder to kill now. We lost two pack members to dark weapons."

"I'm so sorry, Bertolf. Many of Tiamet's servants have been slain, and their ability to help everyone who needs them is stretched thin. There are few of us…I mean, them…and priestesses must seek out tears. They can't afford to linger unless they are sure another tear will appear. It's not that they wanted to abandon you," Halea apologized for her former sisters of the faith.

Varg hadn't missed her slip of the tongue. It still bothered him that deep down, in her heart, Halea still considered herself to be a priestess.

"Varg told me of your trouble with the Dragon Lord and that he was slaughtering your people. It would seem that dark times are ahead for all of us."

Halea could only nod her head in agreement, and Varg tightened his arm around her as he sensed her sadness across their bond.

Howls sudden rang out across the den and Halea's heart leaped into her throat as she jumped to her feet in fearful panic, but she saw no signs of the purple light associated with the presence of a tear.

"Halea, it's okay. It's all right," Varg promised as he quickly clasped her wrist and pulled her close. Sweat was pouring from her skin, and she reeked of fear and anxiety. "They're announcing that the southern pack is here," he explained, and her rapidly fluttering heart calmed as she took a deep breath and nodded in understanding.

Bertolf stared in wide-eyed confusion. Why was the Wolfmother so on edge? There was no time to ask as the two alphas quickly set off to greet the latest arrivals.

Halea cursed that she probably reeked of anxiety just before having to face the southern wolves and their new alpha. That sort of scent could easily be misinterpreted and might make a bad first impression on the unfamiliar leader.

Everyone cleared a path as Varg and Halea approached the southern park. It was easy to distinguish which lycan was their new leader as he moved ahead of the rest of his entourage with an undeniable air of authority and Halea was suddenly reminded of when Úlfa had asked her if she could sense the will of an alpha. There were no doubts that this alpha possessed the will of a true leader. She stifled a gasp when she first caught sight of him. His skin was a little more tanned than Varg's, and his hair was as black as ebony, but his eyes were the same unmistakable shade of blue as her mate's.

"Greetings, brother Raoul," offered Varg after the southern leader gave a respectful but short bow of his head.

"Brother? Don't you mean cousin?" he asked with an even but deep voice as his face remained impassive.

Varg gave a forced smile. "Of course, cousin. It's good to see you again. It's been many years."

"I haven't seen you since you were but a cub, and now you are my king," he replied and extended his arms. The two males shared a brief but somewhat unenthusiastic embrace. "You've certainly grown to take after your father. Thank you for welcoming us to the western lands. And I take it this," Raoul said while turning his vibrant blue eyes on Halea, "is our Supreme Wolfmother?"

Halea stood tall and unflinching under the piercing gaze of the southern alpha.

"Yes, this is my mate, Halea," Varg proudly introduced.

Halea hadn't received many runners from the southern pack since Ralph came to request the gathering on Raoul's behalf. The few inquiries she had received concerning the festival had been brief and were mainly concerned with the state of the local herds, and she had no choice but to delegate those messages to Varg.

"I welcome you and your pack to the western lands," Halea spoke without hesitation. "You must be exhausted after your long journey. Please, come and join us for supper. Alpha Bertolf is also here, but Alpha Ethelwolf and the eastern pack have not yet arrived."

The southern alpha regarded her for a silent moment before finally accepting the offer. With a signal from Halea, several of her western pack volunteers approached the rest of the southern lycans and escorted them to other pits where they would be given refreshment and a chance to rest after their long journey.

When they returned to the main pit, Halea couldn't help but observe that Raoul greeted Bertolf in a somewhat more openly friendly manner than he had greeted her and Varg.

"As soon as the eastern pack arrives, you may present yourself before the council," Varg explained as they ate before the fire.

Normally, Varg shared some of his meat with Halea, which she would skewer and lay on the fire, but she didn't want to run the chance of offending the new southern alpha with her peculiar human diet; at least not on the first night. She had requested that Ulrica prepare her entire meal for her beforehand so the smell of the cooking food would not be as much of an unwelcome distraction. Her precaution didn't seem to work as Raoul quirked an eyebrow at the sight of her eating from a separate plate than her mate and she suspected the subtle twitch of his nostrils was an indication that he was not pleased with the scent. Lycan mates usually shared food from a single plate as a form of bonding and a display of affection, but she couldn't do that cultural tradition with Varg. She did her best to ignore Raoul's subtle disapproval and kept her eyes focused on whoever was currently dominating the conversation.

"I look forward to their arrival," Raoul replied. "There is one other thing I wish to discuss with the council while I'm here. I'm sure you're aware that demon attacks have been on the rise. They're getting clever, and far more lethal, and rumor has spread into the south that the old dragon won't do his job anymore. They say that you were able to best him in battle. I'd very much like to hear how you accomplished such a feat."

"Varg and I went into the east, seeking the Swordmaster," interjected Halea who could tell that Varg was starting to become annoyed with his cousin who seemed openly doubtful of the rumors. "With the help of the crow and the great wolf gods, Varg was given greater mastery of the Fang."

Raoul narrowed his eyes at Halea's words, and Varg did his best to suppress a growl.

"I see. If this is true, it would seem that you indeed have the favor of the gods, but I'm not sure if that will be enough to keep me from presenting my claim before the council."

"What claim?" asked Varg, who no longer bothered to mask the growl that rumbled in his voice.

"I'm not entirely confident about how you and your mate have been handling this crisis. When I appear before the council, perhaps I'll announce my intention to challenge you for the right to be the Wolf King."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A note from your humble author** : DUN DUN DUN! What's the deal with Raoul? Relatives, am I right? Next chapter the Festival/Gathering begins and there will be so much drama, much wow! What's going to happen? You'll just have to keep reading to find out! Same bat time, same bat channel!
> 
> Thank you so much to all my readers. Please drop a comment and let me know what you think of book 3 so far. I love hearing from you guys. It really brightens my day.


	7. Loyalty

In a flash, the two males were on their feet snarling in each other's faces. Bertolf quickly jumped in to pull back Raoul and Halea threw herself in front of Varg to prevent him from falling into a blood rage.

"You dare challenge me?" Varg roared.

"I might, Varg. I just might. It's easy to sit here and pretend like everything's under control and throw a celebration when the truth is that things have gone to shit! Who's going to banish that convergence if it comes back? What are we going to do about these demons and tears invading our lands if her kind can't manage them? The western territory was nearly destroyed the last time a convergence went wrong, and now there is nothing to prevent that disaster from wiping out everything as we know it. Perhaps the gods have chosen you as their champion, but what are you going to do about it? What is her kind going to do about it? Sit around here and wait for our end to come? I want answers, Varg! I want action! My pack is in danger! Your pack is in danger! If you two can't prove to me that you've got a plan, then I will challenge you. I can't sit by and watch our people be destroyed!"

Halea had to lean into Varg with all her might to keep him from leaping forward and going for Raoul's throat.

"You know nothing of what we have endured!" Varg replied. "The dragon has lost his mind, and it was only by the will of the gods that we were able to subdue him before he slaughtered everyone who prays to their Goddess. Don't forget that for the last two convergences it was the western wolves who stood between the demons and all the other territories. You southern lycans were always the first to abandon us in our time of need!"

"That was Rafe's doing, and you know it!" Raoul growled. "If I had been alpha at that time, I wouldn't have turned my back. All lycans are our people, but Rafe cared nothing for our friends and kin in the other packs."

Despite Raoul's aggression, Halea could find no fault with his words. There hadn't been much open communication between the western and southern packs since the last convergence, and it was easy to understand that things looked dire from an outsider's perspective. It was true that they didn't have much control over the situation, but they were not without hope or a plan.

"Raoul, I understand your concern," Halea interjected in an attempt to reason with the other alpha. "We're worried too. You're right; we're in a bad situation. We all are. But Varg and I have not been idle. You deserve to know the whole truth about what's been happening. Please, let's just all sit down and discuss this rationally."

Raoul raised a doubtful eyebrow at her proposal, but with a reluctant sigh he sat back down, and to Halea's relief, Varg and Bertolf also reclaimed their seats, though they were both still noticeably on edge.

Halea started by explaining everything from the beginning of the last gathering, of Lord Anshar's disappearance and return and what his current mental condition was like. She explained about their journey into the east after Rafe's attack, and Varg interjected to tell of his experience with the Swordmaster and his encounter with the wolf gods. They talked about the current situation with the demons and tears, the few and scattered worshippers of the Dragon Goddess, and the miraculous capture of Lord Anshar within the dark mirror.

Even Bertolf listened with rapt attention as new details emerged about their predicament.

"If the gods have granted you their favor and mastery of the Fang, I can't deny that you are their chosen champion, but if the dragon refuses to do his duty, that still doesn't leave us in a good position," Raoul grumbled after hearing them out.

"There's hope," argued Halea. "Tiamet came to the earthly realm to give me the power to trap Lord Anshar. She asked me to save him. I know most never recover from Chaos Madness, but Lord Anshar isn't like others, he does have his lucid moments, and I know there was something else in the Chaos with him. There's something behind all this, and he has the answers. I just have to get through to him, but I need time, and I know we're running out, but if this is what the Goddess wants, then we are not without hope."

"I don't like gambling on the sanity of a dragon who has already turned his back on his people. If he keeps his vow to never sacrifice, we're lost," Raoul said.

"I don't know the will of the gods, but they're definitely involved," added Bertolf. "The gods are mysterious and work in ways that we cannot begin to understand, but I feel like they know something that we don't. Varg and Halea are being guided by their will, and though I don't like depending on the whims of a mad dragon, it would seem that Lord Anshar still has his part to play."

"That's it, then? We're all in the hands of the gods?" Raoul grumbled. "I can't say that's particularly comforting."

"I understand your frustration," Varg said with sympathy. "These are things beyond our control that cannot be challenged with claw or fang. We're dealing a mysterious force from another dimension with unknown motives and gods that may or may not care whether we live or die and a dragon that's fed up with his lot in life. All I know is that I trust Halea. If the dragon has the answer to our problem, she will find it, and I will do everything within my power to buy her the time she needs. The Fang is a sword of protection, and I will fight for my mate, my pack, and our people, all of our people because I _am_ the Wolf King, and that is my purpose. If you still doubt me, then I welcome your challenge."

"I'll think about it," Raoul replied. "I am still undecided. I can't say that I could do any better in your situation, but the wolf gods grant their favor to the strongest. I will wait until the end of the festival to make my decision. If you can prove to me that you are worthy of being my king, I will swear fealty to you, but not until then."

"Fine," Varg conceded.

* * *

After things died down, Halea guided Raoul up the mountain path towards the spacious cave that had been reserved for the alpha of the southern pack. Bertolf already knew where his accommodations were, they were the same every time he came to the west, but this was the first time Raoul had ever come to a western pack gathering as an alpha.

To be a good Wolfmother, Halea had to play the part of a perfect hostess, so she had swallowed her nerves and ignored the concerned glance from Varg when she offered to show Raoul to his accommodations.

The walk up the mountain was silent and awkward, but she held her head high. When they reached the heavy iron doors, Halea went inside first to light the lamps with the small torch she had carried from the pit.

"Is there anything else you will need for the night?" she asked.

Raoul avoided her eyes by looking around the cave and nervously scratched the back of his head.

"I do love him, ya know," he blurted to Halea's surprise.

He finally met her gaze, and his vibrant blue eyes grew serious.

"He's my little cousin. At least he was when I last saw him. It's not that I wanted to come all the way out here just to bust his chops, but I also have to worry about my pack. I don't know if a human can understand that."

"I understand just fine," Halea replied in a defensive tone. "I know you haven't seen him since he was a kid…cub…but he's doing everything he can. We both are. And don't make your predecessor's mistake of underestimating me just because I'm a human."

"Ah, suddenly his choice makes sense," he laughed at her ire, not maliciously, but with genuine amusement. "I would have loved to have been the one to challenge Rafe, but it was you who defeated him in single combat, and I suppose if you hadn't, I wouldn't be here. For that, you have my gratitude. I did not condone what he tried to do to you and Varg. I can respect you for being a tough alpha bitch and my Supreme Wolfmother, despite being human, but as to what I think of you on a personal level, I don't know yet. To be honest, I haven't met or spoken to many humans besides you and that dark-skinned priestess you sent to my lands to close that tear. Your kind has been less than endearing, but I'm willing to give you a chance, at least for Varg's sake. I barely even know him anymore after all these years. I'm amazed he even remembers me."

"He did say he doesn't know you as well as he should," Halea admitted. "He also mentioned that you were unpredictable."

"Well, I guess he does remember something about me," Raoul laughed again before his smile eventually grew sad. "He is my last blood relation. I pray to the gods that he really is everything I'm hoping for in a king."

"Don't worry, he is," she promised with a confident smile before saying farewell and leaving the southern alpha alone for the night.

* * *

Varg waited impatiently by the dying embers of the fire pit for Halea to return and was relieved when she came back down the path. Her emotions hadn't indicated any distress; in fact, he had detected a sense of hopefulness from her that sparked his curiosity.

When she approached the pit, he motioned for her to join him rather than immediately retiring to their tree-dwelling for the night. She accepted his invitation by snuggling up next to him in front of the glowing remains of the evening's fire.

"You seem to have done pretty well for yourself today, Wolfmother," he said with a pleased smile. "I take it Raoul didn't cause you any trouble."

"He might be an unpredictable hot-head, but I think he's fair – so far. I know as an alpha you can't stand being challenged, but he's just concerned for our people, and I can't blame anyone for being afraid in these dark times. I know you two aren't exactly close, but I don't think you have anything to worry about from him. I don't know if he wanted me to spread the message, but he said he loves you and that you're his family. He's giving us a chance, which is more than Rafe ever did, so I think we can give him a chance too. He won't doubt you for long. I know it."

"Our people?" he asked with a raised eyebrow. He had always hoped that she would come to view his people as her people.

"Yes. Your people are my people now. I do love them, and I love being here with you. For the first time since I was a child, I have a home, somewhere that I belong. I know I didn't feel like I fit in here at first, and it wasn't easy to adapt, but it's different now. Your people aren't perfect. I mean, some are jerks, but humans can be that way too. You wolves are still a weird and cranky lot, but everyone's grown on me."

Varg's heart swelled with pride to hear his mate finally accepting his people and her place among them. He wanted to give her everything that would make her happy, and a home was more than just a tree house, it was a place and a people. It was family, even if that family wasn't always blood.

He sighed in defeat.

"I guess I should give my cousin some time. When last he saw me, I was little more than an ankle-biter, and he hasn't had a chance to know me as a man or a leader. Although I wish he wouldn't piss me off."

"To be fair, everyone pisses you off," she added with a laugh.

"Everyone except you," he corrected before leaning in and softly brushing his lips against hers.

* * *

"It's nearly good enough to walk on now, see!" Faolan declared as he feebly lifted his injured leg in its cast. "It doesn't even hurt."

"Yes, much better, but you're still not coming out of that cast today," Halea said with finality, beside her Ralphina looked disappointed.

"That's too bad. It's hard taking care of two babies." Ralphina had been looking after her brother during his convalescence, and it was a lot to manage on top of caring for Bardolph and her volunteer work with the festival, though Lycurgus helped as much as possible.

"Hey!" Faolan grumbled, but his sister only shoved his baby nephew into his arms.

"You can watch Bardolph while I help with the morning meal. I'll be back to nurse him later."

"But what about Lycurgus?" he asked.

"Varg took him on a scouting mission this morning, so you're on your own," Halea added with a grin.

The two females left Faolan to deal with the squirming infant. He protested, but he loved babysitting Bardolph and had a knack for keeping him entertained and getting him to fall asleep.

The meal at the alpha's fire pit was far less stressful that morning. Varg, Raoul, and Bertolf were discussing lighter matters and growing excited about the festival games. Suddenly Halea could understand Jance's annoyance with the never-ending topic, but the sound of a howl interrupted their discussion.

"Guess we're finally all here," Varg announced after Halea gave him a questioning glance.

Everyone rose and went to greet the eastern pack. Halea was happy to see Ethelwolf again, and to her surprise, he brought Úlfa with him.

"Thank you for having us, and we're sorry for arriving so late. Far more of the pack wanted to join the gathering this year because of the festival and it takes a lot to coordinate the journey of so many wolves," Ethelwolf explained after being warmly greeted by all the other alphas. The eastern pack was by far the largest of all the lycan packs, and after a long winter, many had been excited for the prospect of taking a journey to a warmer territory and enjoying the festivities.

"We're so happy you both were able to make it," Halea said in greeting before Úlfa stepped forward and offered an enthusiastic embrace.

"Halea, it's so good to see you again," the eastern Wolfmother declared as her dark blue eyes twinkled. Úlfa was the only other lycan Wolfmother, and the runners she had sent Halea from the east had proven to possess the most useful advice and information about planning the festival. "I'll help you with anything you need for the festival. Otsana will also be volunteering."

Halea looked over Úlfa's shoulder and noticed Otsana standing back with some of the other eastern wolves and that Fenris was also with them. The younger she-wolf angrily huffed and turned her head to avoid eye contact, and Halea suspected she was more of a conscript than a volunteer.

"Thank you, Otsana. I really…" but before Halea could finish, Otsana stormed off. "Oh, okay, well, never mind," Halea lamely finished.

Úlfa shook her head in regret. "Don't mind her, please. You know how she is."

"Yeah, same as ever, I guess," Halea agreed, but inside she felt an ache of disappointment. She had hoped that the time she and Otsana spent together while she was in the east had softened the harsh feelings between them, but it seemed the eastern she-wolf still hated her.

Halea decided to let it go, for the time being, she had to consider her duties as Wolfmother, and she quickly offered Ethelwolf and Úlfa the chance to rest and eat after their long journey while the rest of their pack was also seen to by the volunteers. Even though she and Varg had only just finished their meal, they joined the eastern alphas and spent a pleasant morning catching up with them.

Halea couldn't help but smile as she observed the usually stoic Ehtelwolf melt in the presence of his adoring mate. She could tell the bond between them was so strong that they subtly communicated between each other without even needing words, and it reminded her of the happiness she shared with Varg.

But a dark cloud settled over Halea's heart, and anxiety squeezed her on the inside.

What if something terrible happened to Ethelwolf? The Swordmaster's prophecy said he was in great danger and they couldn't even warn him. What if he died? What would happen to Úlfa?

Varg sensed his mate's emotions taking a dark turn as sadness spread across their bond like a miasma. He gently squeezed her hand, and when she looked up at him, he gave her an encouraging smile.

Ethelwolf's fate was not yet known, but they would fight to protect their friends together.

* * *

The next day the games began. Halea watched the vicious wrestling matches between the males and tried not to cringe at the openly violent displays of aggression. She knew there was no malice and that it was all in good fun – for lycans – but it was hard as a human and a healer's apprentice to not worry about the wellbeing of her friends.

Aatu suffered from a dislocated wrist after competing against Fenris, and Halea couldn't help but observe that Otsana had watched that match with an unsettled look in her eyes. Fenris had shown an interest in leadership that had threatened Otsana's place in her pack, and Halea desperately wanted to ask her if she had kept up with her training, but the eastern she-wolf had done nothing but ignore her since her arrival.

Halea was able to reset Aatu's wrist with Batsuba's guidance, and Faolan watched silently as the two women bandaged up his friend. His cast had come off, and he was permitted to walk, but to his disappointment, Batsuba had forbidden him from joining the races that were scheduled for that day.

"Too bad," Faolan teased when the females were done with Aatu and left to go help tend to the other injured competitors. Aatu had given Foalan nothing but grief for being laid up and missing out on the start of the games, and now it was his turn to sit out.

"Hey, this will be better in a day. Faster than your lame leg, gimpy!"

"Gimpy! Why you…"

"Give it a rest, you two," interrupted Hemming. "The races are up next, and it's not like either one of you would have stood a chance against Varg anyway."

"Yeah, you're right," Aatu admitted. "At least this will be better in time for the archery competition. That's too bad for you."

Hemming glowered at Aatu's challenge. He was the best archer in the western pack and had won every competition for the past decade, but last year Aatu had come close to beating him, and it was no secret that the two males had been putting in extra practice to see who would come out on top this year.

A small band of southern lycans had been standing nearby while waiting for the next wrestling match to begin and had overheard the conversation of the western males and decided to walk over and join them.

"Too bad about the wrist," Loup commented with a less-than-sincere smile. "I hear that Fenris guy is pretty tough. Perhaps they should put him in a match against your human Wolfmother. Supposedly she was strong enough to take down Rafe all by herself. Doubt it was a fair fight though, after all, she is a witch."

" _Our_ Supreme Wolfmother!" Aatu angrily corrected while baring his fangs.

"Fair? He masked his scent to murder her, which would have killed Varg. I say she had a right to defend herself with any means necessary. There was nothing fair about that fight. Rafe got what was coming to him!" snarled Faolan.

The southern lycans growled as Faolan disrespected their former alpha and one of their males, Otsoa, jumped forward and snarled in the face of the western lycan who stood his ground in angry defiance.

"That human bitch is not one of us! She does not belong here!" Otsoa barked.

Hemming shoved the southern male away from Foalan and stood with his friends.

"Halea is our Supreme Wolfmother!" Faolan growled as red seeped into the edges of his brown eyes. "She kicked Rafe's ass, and she could kick your ass too, and if you say one more word, I'll tear your fucking throat out!"

Halea had saved Faolan's life more than once and had more than proven herself as an alpha bitch and a friend, and he was not about to stand by and let anyone disrespect her behind her back.

Without a moment wasted, claws were out, and fists were thrown, and suddenly everyone else in the area was watching in shock as the western and southern lycans brawled. Faolan's leg was still stiff, but he was no less capable as a fighter, and even Aatu chose to ignore his injured wrist as he entered the fray and took a bite out of one of the southern wolves. Hemming broke Loup's nose, but more of the southern lycans piled into the fight in defense of their pack-mates, and they were quickly being overwhelmed.

"That's enough!" a voice roared, and everyone fighting froze in horror before turning to meet the fierce gaze of Raoul. "What is the meaning of this?" he snarled in a tone that was perilously close to rage.

"Your asshole pack decided to insult the Supreme Wolfmother," grumbled Faolan, though he turned his eyes to avoid the alpha's glare. He had seen those same angry eyes from Varg before, and he was all too familiar with the crushing weight of an alpha's will, and Raoul was no less intimidating.

"Is that true?" Raoul asked his pack-mates, but few would meet his gaze, and only Otsoa was able to muster the nerve to give an answer.

"She's not one of us. She is no Wolfmother of mine."

Without hesitation, Raoul launched his fist into the beta male's stomach, causing him to double over and crumble to the ground.

"I've had enough of Rafe's shadow hanging over our heads," Raoul growled as he continued to stare down his own pack. "His hateful ways are why he's dead and why we are still not behaving as brothers and sisters. I will not hear of this again! If anyone else disrespects one of our Supreme Alphas, you will answer to me. Do I make myself clear?"

The rest of the southern wolves bowed their heads in fearful submission. Even if they disagreed with him, they knew better than to challenge their alpha. Everyone began to disburse and went back to their business as if a fierce brawl hadn't just happened. Raoul remained to ensure that his pack mates moved along as well and didn't cause any more trouble. Despite the southern alpha still watching over them, Faolan, Aatu, and Hemming felt better after letting off some steam, though the rumble didn't do Aatu's sore wrist any favors.

Faolan was surprised when he caught sight of Halea approaching them with a concerned look on her face.

Raoul noticed her too and wondered how much of that spectacle she had just seen. His anger had kept him distracted, and it didn't help that her human scent was just about everywhere in the den.

"We're sorry, Halea," Faolan quickly offered when she worriedly examined Aatu's wrist. Aatu tried not to flinch as she made him flex his fingers.

Halea had rushed back the moment she heard there was a fight, but by the time she arrived, Raoul had already broken it up. She was grateful for the help as Varg was off preparing for the races that were about to begin.

"Take it easy on this hand, would ya?" she admonished, though it looked like the injury hadn't been disturbed too much. "Be thankful Batsuba didn't catch you," she added, and Aatu's face turned bright red in embarrassment.

"Sorry," he meekly replied.

"You didn't have to do that for me, but thanks guys," she said when she was done with her examination. They couldn't see it, but they could smell the saltiness of unshed tears, and her face was smiling.

"I did promise that if I ever caught anyone disrespecting you behind your back, that I'd rearrange their jaw. And I'd gladly do it again too," Faolan reminded, and Aatu and Hemming nodded their heads in firm agreement.

Halea laughed and smiled brighter as their support and devotion overflowed her heart with joy. She wasn't used to any other lycans than Varg sticking up for her, and it felt nice to know that her pack friends cared.

"You guys run along before the races start. I'll catch up," she said, and the three males reluctantly left her alone with the southern alpha.

Halea turned to find that Raoul had been openly observing their exchange the entire time and she was curious about the strange look in his eyes.

"I have to apologize for the behavior of my pack. You have my word, they will not be disrespectful again," he promised.

"I heard what you said to them, and it means a lot to me that our two packs get along. I know my presence has been a disturbance, but I do care about lycans. All lycans. Even you mangy southern wolves."

Raoul smiled at her teasing remark and was rewarded with a smile from her in return. Though he had wanted to reserve judgment, it was quickly becoming clear that his cousin had managed to find an alpha she-wolf who lived within a human skin. Perhaps she was a witch to be so powerful, but he couldn't detect the scent of lies as she spoke, and he was forced to concede that perhaps she really was a Wolfmother.

"Yes, I can see that you do care, or else the rest of your pack wouldn't have fought so loyally to defend your honor. Minds and hearts don't change quickly, but you managed to get a bunch of, as you say, mangy wolves, to acknowledge you as their alpha, and that's no small accomplishment. Rafe poisoned my people with his hateful ways, and I can only hope that in time, my pack will learn to let go of his wicked beliefs. Our people need to be unified once more, especially if we're to survive the storm ahead."

Halea nodded her head in agreement. "Varg and I want this as well."

"I'm still undecided, just so you know."

"The festival has barely begun. You've still got plenty of time to think it over," Halea conceded with a grin, but she suspected Raoul was already beginning to make up his mind.

They parted, and Halea made for the edge of the den and towards the trees. She moved with a lighter spring in her step as hope bloomed within her. No doubt news of the squabble had already made its way to Varg as gossip spread quickly among lycans. She had promised to meet him out on the western hunting grounds in time to see him compete in the races and she was already running late.

"Your presence stirs up shit even when you're not around."

Halea froze at the sound of a familiar woman's voice and noticed Otsana stepping out from beneath the thick trees.

"Lurking like a creep?" Halea asked.

"I wasn't lurking, I'm on my way to the races too!" Otsana angrily defended. "I saw that fight when it happened, and got delayed."

"I would have thought you'd of been the first one to arrive at the races considering you disappeared right after watching that wrestling match with Fenris."

"Watching me like a creep?" Otsana accused.

"Hey, you owe me an explanation about what's been going on with you and Fenris since I left the east! I spent all that time trying to help you, and you wouldn't even talk to me."

"Owe you!" Otsana shouted. "I don't owe you jack shit! You left me in the east after saying you could train with me, but things are just the same. Fenris is still an asshole who acts like he's the next leader of the pack. Did you see what he did to your pack mate? He practically tore his whole hand off! That's what I'm up against, and you just took off. You didn't even care, you just left!"

Halea was surprised to see such hurt in the dark blue eyes of the eastern she-wolf and the subtle glisten of unshed tears.

"Hey, I care; it's just that I didn't have any control over that situation. It wasn't that I wanted to leave you in the lurch, but I didn't have a choice. I had to go."

"Shut up! Whether I live or die or lose my pack, none of it matters to you! Why should it? You already have your pack! You have everything, and I have nothing." Otsana shouted as her face burned red and she took off through the trees. But it didn't matter how fast she ran, Otsana had already smelled the truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A note from your humble author** : So much drama! Do you think Raoul will come around? And what's the deal with Otsana? Let's just say, you might be surprised when you find out. Next chapter is going to be brutal. It's a very long chapter, but I'm setting up a lot of important things. Thank you so much for reading my story!
> 
> Don't go yet - I've got more exciting news!
> 
> Blood Bound has officially been released in paperback! If you want to know where you can get signed and unsigned copies (book 1 is also available) check my blog jmriddles dot com. The link to my blog is also in my profile. I'm also hosting a Rafflecopter giveaway for free signed copies of books 1 & 2.
> 
> And in other big news, Torn Apart is an official entry in this year's Self-Published Fantasy Blog-Off (aka SPFBO), hosted by the fantasy writer Mark Lawrence. Every year 300 fantasy novels are passed out to 10 different blogs, each blog gets 30 books and from those 30 they must select 1 book to be a finalist. Of the 10 finalists, 1 book is selected as the winner by all the blogs. I'm up against some pretty big names; writers who have been previously traditionally published or who have hundreds of thousands of reviews and massive followings. The contest is open to all Fantasy subgenre's, but sadly romance seems to be pretty underrepresented, so I don't have high hopes. I'll probably get eliminated in the first round, but as long as my judge doesn't completely rip me a new one, it should be good exposure for the series. I have been assigned to the judge Kitty G, who is actually a vlogger and you can find her book review channel by searching "Kitty G book reviews" on YouTube. Subscribe to see how well I do in the competition and pray she doesn't tear me a new one for submitting a steamy romance. This competition runs for nearly a year (it takes a long time to read 30 books), so I'll keep you posted on how it goes for me.


	8. Crack the Sky

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A note from your humble author** : Sorry this is going up a bit later than normal today. I was supposed to get this edited yesterday, but, uh, the husband and I ended up marathoning season 3 of Stranger Things instead. Also, doesn't help that this is the second-longest chapter in the entire series (the longest chapter is still chapter 3 from book 1 if you're wondering).

Halea stood dumbfounded as Otsana ran into the distance.

" _Did I really hurt her?_ " she thought, though it seemed hard to believe. Otsana had always acted so reluctant to accept her help and been nothing but contentious the entire time she was in the east. She had just assumed the she-wolf didn't care that she was there and would have cared even less when she was gone.

" _I suppose I did leave without so much as saying goodbye_ ," she regretfully recalled. Otsana had approached her in anger on the day she left the east, but she had just chalked that up to being a consistent part of the she-wolf's nature and not because she hadn't been the one to personally tell her that they were leaving. She didn't think that parting so abruptly would even bother Otsana. The eastern female had always acted as if she couldn't stand her presence, and she had just assumed she'd be happy to see her gone. But maybe she was wrong? Guilt gnawed her from the inside as she realized she didn't handle the situation as well as she should have. She had only callously wished Otsana luck without so much as a thought for whether or not she was actually ready to face the hurdles ahead without her help and support.

Úlfa had begged her to help her daughter, but instead, she made a mess of things. Otsana didn't seem any more confident in her ability to challenge Fenris than when she first discovered the nature of their rivalry, and abandoning her in her time of need probably didn't do her any favors.

" _Some Wolfmother I am_ ," she thought in bitter disappointment as she set out once more towards the western hunting grounds. Varg had sensed her tumult of emotions and was prodding her with concern, and she dreaded having to explain it to him.

When she finally reached the stretch of open plane designated for the races, she found a large gathering of lycans milling about and from one of the clusters, hailed Varg. He separated himself from the crowd and made his way towards her.

"It's okay," she quickly stated at the concerned look in his eyes. "I take it, you heard?"

"The southern pack better watch their mouths," he grumbled. "Though I'm grateful Raoul broke it up before it got out of hand."

"I like him," Halea admitted.

"You know he challenged me, right?"

"I know, but he's not like Rafe. You two are more alike than you realize."

Varg couldn't help but raises an eyebrow in doubt.

"Then why were you just upset?"

"Oh…that," she said while sheepishly avoiding his searching gaze.

"Halea?" he asked in a stern tone, and she knew if she didn't explain herself, he would pull his alpha rank on her.

"I think I hurt Otsana," she confessed in shame.

"You? How? She's the one who always attacked you - physically and verbally. I rejected her for years, and it didn't even seem to faze her."

"I think she really did need my help when we were in the east, and I abandoned her. I think she thinks I turned my back on her, or that I pretended to care when I was training with her. Either way, she's upset."

"That is strange. Perhaps there's a heart under that icy bitch exterior after all," he mused before wrapping his arms around his upset mate. "I'm sure you two can talk it out. Try not to let it get to you. You were doing her a favor, and she could have been a bit more appreciative at the time."

Halea nodded and rested her head on his sturdy bare chest. He had removed most of his armor and fur pelts in preparation for the race that was about to begin.

"You're here now, so we can begin," he said before she looked up at him in shock.

"You weren't making everyone wait for me, were you?"

"Hell, yes! You're my good luck charm. Now, what favour will you give me?"

Varg had held back from participating in the wrestling matches, as Wolf King, nobody else would have stood a chance against him anyway. When it came to fighting competitions, the alphas usually refrained, but for the non-violent sports, they rarely held back. Varg had been looking forward to this race.

When they were children, they had raced constantly to see who was the fastest, and the matter remained somewhat unsettled, but Halea was not interested in participating in this event. The lycans would run the course in their wolf forms, and she didn't like the idea of being watched by so many spectators.

She removed the blue crystal that matched the color of Varg's eyes from around her neck and placed it over his head. She had given it to him once long ago as a symbol of her feelings for him, and he had carried it until the convergence separated them. She had always meant it to be for him, but after finding it in the wake of the devastation, she had kept it to remember him, and he had insisted she wear it ever since.

In his state of half-dress, he stood before her like a bronzed god as the warm spring light illuminated him through the few clouds that speckled the sky. She hadn't even realized she had stopped to ogle him until he smiled, revealing his gleaming white fangs and her face flushed with warmth.

"I guess you should keep it for luck until the festival is over," she said with a hint of embarrassment in her voice before reaching up on her toes to give him a sweet kiss to accompany her favour.

Allowing no brevity when it came to her affection, he wasted no time capturing her lips and holding her against him until the fierce pounding of her heart drowned out the commotion of the gathering all around them.

When he finally broke their kiss, she was limp and gasping for breath in his arms, her face even redder than it was a moment ago.

"You mangy wolf, don't you have a race?" she asked, suddenly feeling self-conscious that they were making a scene.

"I expect an even better prize when I win," he teased with a voracious grin.

Halea wished him luck one last time before heading to where the spectators would be waiting. As she passed some of the members of the northern pack, she noticed that Jance and Alf were also there. Alf gave his tiny mate one final hug for good luck before he too shifted form and joined the runners.

As soon as Jance caught sight of Halea, she came over.

"What'd you give Varg for his favour?"

"My crystal pendant. Well, our crystal, but it's his turn to hang onto it. What about you? What did you give Alf?"

Jance's eyes nervously shifted around her to make sure no one else was too close before she leaned towards Halea and whispered; "My undergarments."

The two women burst into a fit of giggles that caused some of the other lycans to look their way, but they ignored their judgment.

"I'll catch you later. I gotta go cheer for the north," Jance said with a gleaming smile before joining Bertolf and several other northern pack members.

Everyone gathered around the starting point as Varg, and the other lycans who were participating in the race, shifted into their wolf forms. Batsuba was also there, taking a rare break to enjoy the festivities, and Halea went to join her. When the lycans transformed, they were massive, far bigger than common wolves, and menacing to behold. Halea could easily spot Varg because of all the wolves, he was the largest and most intimidating, and his eyes always remained their same distinct shade of blue.

Marrok sounded the start of the race with a whistle, and the runners sprinted forward. It didn't take long for Varg to take the lead and Halea cheered with the rest of the western pack as they watched the wolves run into the distance. Their course would take them beyond the vision of even the lycan spectators, but referees were stationed along their route and would send out howls to announce the runner's progress.

Marrok came over as soon as he noticed Halea standing with Batsuba.

"Oh, what a day for a race!" he commented as his ancient eyes shimmered with delight.

Batsuba merely nodded her head in curt agreement but kept her attention on the runners as they disappeared beyond the trees.

Halea had lost sight of them long before they reached that point as her human vision wasn't nearly as powerful as the lycan's, but she didn't have to see what was happening out there to know how Varg was doing. She could sense his smug elation.

"Varg's as cocky as ever, so I guess he's still in the lead," she said, and as if to accompany her statement a howl rose in the distance.

"And he's left the competition in his dust," Batsuba confirmed as she translated the referee's announcement. "Well, he'll be even more insufferable now."

Halea laughed as she shielded her eyes from the sun and stared out into the distance, hoping to catch some sign of movement through the trees. When she couldn't see anything, and another moment passed, she turned instead to her fellow spectators. Raoul and a few more from the southern pack had arrived in time to see the last half of the race, undoubtedly to cheer on their own who were participating. Many members of the eastern pack were also there, including Ethelwolf and Úlfa, but Otsana appeared to be absent.

" _I thought she was coming to the race?_ " she thought, but eventually surmised that the she-wolf probably wouldn't be interested in festivities or games after how upset she had just been, and again guilt squeezed Halea's stomach until it churned.

Batsuba noticed the sudden shift in Halea's expression as if a dark cloud had settled over her and stolen all her light and warmth away.

"What is it, Halea?" she asked.

"It's nothing. It's not Varg anyway. Just something I did."

Rather than dismiss the matter, the old healer continued to scrutinize her with her dark and knowing eyes.

"Now, now, Batsuba. She's still new to being a Wolfmother," interjected Marrok before turning to Halea and placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "You carry many burdens, my child. Don't be so hard on yourself. Mistakes will happen. Don't think about it anymore for just now. Enjoy the race."

Marrok's words proved to be unusually comforting, though Halea couldn't understand why. The elder couldn't possibly know the reason for her worries, but there was something about the way he spoke that led her to believe he understood more than it would seem.

Taking his advice, she turned back to the race in time to see small dots running in from a distance.

"Is that them?" she asked.

"Yep, and your mate's still in the lead," the healer replied as a smile tugged at the edges of her usually stern mouth. Batsuba was not without pride for her pack or her Supreme Alpha, but she would never dare admit it aloud. Varg's ego was already enough to fill an ocean, and she wasn't about to add to it. She was still curious about what was bothering her young apprentice but ultimately decided to let Halea handle it as she saw fit.

Everyone was cheering as the runners drew nearer and Varg swiftly crossed the finish, followed second by Alf and third by a female from the southern pack. Fenris and two other eastern wolves came next, and everyone rushed forth to congratulate them.

Varg was hardly even winded when he returned to his humanoid form, and he eagerly swept Halea into his arms when she ran out to meet him.

Others rushed to congratulate Varg as well, and Halea could tell he was in his element as he beamed with pride under the praise of the other lycans.

After the commotion died down, everyone began to make their way back to the den, but Varg and Halea hung back, taking their time and holding hands as they enjoyed their walk.

"I knew you'd win," Halea confessed.

"So did I," he teasingly bragged. "I only wish that you could have been there running by my side."

"I was there in a sense," she reminded. With the bond they shared, they were never truly apart, and her words were the affirmation that pleased him most. He released her hand so that he could wrap his arm around her shoulders as they strolled back through the trees.

Further ahead, Halea saw that Jance and Alf were also taking their time walking back to the den. Jance was practically hopping around her large mate in excitement from the day's event, and Halea couldn't help but notice the exaggerated difference between them when they were close together. Alf was a big male, almost as big as Varg, but Jance was diminutive in comparison, and suddenly a terribly dirty thought crossed her mind as she tried to imagine what intimacy between those two must be like. Before she could stop it, a laugh escaped her throat, and she quickly tried to stifle herself, fearing Alf might hear her.

Varg sensed his mate's sudden mirth, and her laughter and succeeding embarrassment sparked his curiosity.

"What? What am I missing?"

"Shh, nothing," she dismissed in a low voice, though she was unable to wipe the grin off her face.

"Oh, no, no. Whatever this joke is, I want in."

"I'll tell you later," she promised and tried again to not laugh at the pouting look of disappointment he gave her.

* * *

The next day proved to be a rainy one, but it didn't deter the lycans from enjoying their festival. The first hunting competition began before the crack of dawn and Halea had wearily wished Varg luck when he set out. Though she wanted to go back to bed, she couldn't, it was going to be a busy day. While waiting for the results of the hunt, there were more fights to watch, and Halea couldn't help but feel tempted, but as an alpha, she refrained. Her reputation for defeating Rafe had ensured that almost every lycan took her seriously as a warrior and afforded her the respect due her position.

Most of the fighting matches were males versus males and females versus females, but if they felt up to it, there were mixed matches as well. Faolan, with his fully healed leg, won a few fights against some of the southern wolves, but was ultimately defeated by a pretty northern female and everyone couldn't help but tease him for being too distracted.

The female fighting competitions were particularly interesting to watch, and Daciana brought pride to the western pack, but Halea couldn't help but notice that Otsana was nowhere to be found. The eastern she-wolf had always seemed so invested in putting on a tough bitch image, and whatever her doubts were about taking on Fenris, surely challenging other females wouldn't have been a problem for her.

Halea reminded herself to stay vigilant; she had enough problems without worrying about Otsana. During the gathering, as far as demon sightings or tears were concerned, things had remained quiet, too quiet, and with every day, she grew more and more anxious. She didn't want to seem suspicious, but she tried her best to unobtrusively remain close to Ethelwolf and keep an eye on him. At the first sign of danger, she wanted to be ready to spring into action, and so as the day wore on, she found herself out on the archery field.

Thanks to Aatu's ability to heal at therian speed, his dislocated wrist had already fully recovered, and he was enjoying the feel of his bow in his hands. The day's rain had dissipated to nothing more than a light mist, and the satisfying thwack of another arrow struck its target in the distance.

Everyone congratulated Ethelwolf on his excellent shot, and soon it was Hemming's turn.

Halea stood with Faolan and Daciana, who watched her mate with pride while her rambunctious son tugged at her hand.

"Good luck, Daddy!" shouted Fillin, and Hemming's face lit up with joy as he turned back and waved at his mate and son.

Hemming effortlessly shot arrow after arrow, hitting every target, including the moving clay disks that were launched into the air and everyone erupted into a roar of applause and approval at his spectacular marksmanship.

Aatu came next, and the spectators held their breath as every shot was fired with perfection, but for one. As one of the clay disks soared into the distance, his arrow just glanced the object which did not fully shatter on impact, and the audience cried out in disappointment.

When the disk was retrieved, it was found to be missing a large chip, but was otherwise intact, if not for that it would have been a tie, but Hemming was once again declared the winner.

Though Aatu was disappointed to have lost, he bore no ill will and was one of the first to congratulate Hemming as everyone swarmed him with praise. Hemming patted his friend on the back and wished him better luck next year. Though he hadn't won, Aatu had come even closer to defeating Hemming than the year before and so he remained determined. He would keep practicing, and he was sure it would only be a matter of time before he replaced the older male as the best archer among the lycans.

There was no escaping the ribbing that came from Faolan though.

"Lost by a chip!

"Hey, at least I didn't lose because I got caught staring at some ass," snapped Aatu.

"I don't entirely regret that. I'm having dinner with her later," Foalan laughed and Aatu couldn't help but join him.

"You've still improved though," Faolan added. "I'll bet Hemming is going to be sweating from now to next year every time he sees you practicing. Come on, Chips, let's get some ale and catch a few more fights before the hunters return.

Aatu playfully punched his friend in the stomach before they set off.

Halea remained off to the side, watching as everyone slowly went on to other activities. Hemming was standing with Fillin on his shoulders and his mate by his side as Ethelwolf and Úlfa congratulated him on his win. Ethelwolf had come in third, and the males were talking technique while Daciana and Úlfa shared their own private conversation.

Everyone seemed to be having a good time, and while she was relieved the gathering was going well, worry dogged at her every step. The Spring Moon was drawing near, and she couldn't help but hope that maybe things would be okay. Maybe Corbin's vision wouldn't come to fruition, and nobody would have to lose someone they loved, but even though she wanted to believe that, she couldn't.

"Forgive me for calling upon you, Wolf Gods, I know I'm not really a lycan, but please watch over them. Protect them," she prayed.

"I don't think you have to worry about impressing our gods," came a familiar voice and Halea spun in shock to find Marrok, who had evidently overheard her prayer.

"They like you well enough. They gave you Varg, didn't they?"

"Considering I had to swear an oath, I suppose he wasn't a gift from Tiamet," she replied with a smile.

"You were a gift to him. The gods laid you in his path."

"Actually, I stumbled on him in the woods," Halea corrected with a laugh as she remembered the day she fell in front of a snarling wolf with blue eyes.

"All right, they laid him in your path. Either way, I'm sure it happened for a reason."

"You seem to understand an awful lot about the gods," she observed.

"It's because I'm older than dirt, as Batsuba would say," he replied with a laugh. "I remember the world when it was new, back when the first descendants still walked among us. Most of them have gone dormant, yet I'm still awake. I possess the wisdom of the ages, and the only reason my immortality hasn't driven me mad is because I haven't forgotten the joys of life."

Batsuba had once told Halea that Marrok's eccentricities were due to his advanced age, but at the time she had dismissed it as the healer's annoyance.

"Is that why all the first descendants are gone?" she asked.

"Oh, they're not all gone, though they are very few. I hear Corbin is still hanging around, but he has a duty to his father, Morigan, the god of the dead, and that keeps him grounded. But, yes, for most, their immortality was too much to bear, and so they fell into the sleep of dormancy, and no one knows where they are or if they'll ever awake again. It was either sleep or go mad from watching the ages roll by, the years without number, the turning of the seasons to them as no more than the blink of an eye to a mortal. There is such a thing as too much life. It can make you weary. So very weary."

"But what about all the other immortals? Won't they get tired?"

"Of course, which is why many, as Batsuba says 'get daft with age' and for others, well; there are those who get desperate enough to take matters into their own hands," he explained.

"Why can't they sleep?"

"Dormancy is a gift from the gods to their first children, for the rest of us, there is no relief."

Halea grew thoughtful as her mind turned to Lord Anshar. She hadn't spoken to him since the gathering began. He was a second-generation therian, and his parents had long been dormant, and she wondered if the toll of the ages hadn't added to his madness. Tiamet had given him the task of overseeing the faith and banishing the convergences, and so bound by duty, he was expected to endure a long life of loneliness and despair with no end in sight. It was no wonder that he had finally had enough.

"Lord Anshar was already tired of it all before he threw himself into the Chaos," she thought out loud. "Maybe his mind was already slipping."

"That may very well be the case. He was given the burden of the world. He carries both Tiamet's favor and her curse."

Halea wasn't sure if that was a comfort or not. She hated to think she was the sole reason for Lord Anshar's sacrifice because it meant that she was also partly responsible for the mess they were in and there were moments when the teeth of guilt would gnaw into her. Perhaps it would have been better for the whole world if she had just died in the fire when the citadel was destroyed.

"And now the burden is yours," continued Marrok who hadn't missed her morose contemplation. "Trust in the gods. Dragons, wolves - whichever you like. We're in their hands now."

* * *

As Halea neared the den, howls rang out, causing her heart to nearly seize in her chest. Somewhere across the bond, Varg immediately reached out in an attempt to soothe her, and she realized they were only announcing the return of the hunters.

" _Damn it! I'm going to have to learn to speak wolf, or at least learn to understand it before I have a heart attack_ ," she thought in defeat.

When she reached the den everyone was already congratulating the hunters who had returned with an absurd amount of game and were showing off their prizes. There were stags, elks, muskox, wild boar, mountain goats, and even a few bears.

Bertolf, Raoul, and Varg had clearly brought in more meat than any of the other hunters and were waiting patiently as their kills were hoisted onto a massive balancing scale. Whoever brought in the most meat by weight would be the winner.

"Welcome home," Halea greeted, and Varg embraced her the moment she was near. "Wow, that's a ton of meat."

"Two tons! So far. They're still putting mine on the scale," he exclaimed with a laugh.

"I don't think I can eat that many hearts," she bemoaned.

When all the meat was at last weighed, it was Raoul who rose victorious, beating out Varg by only a small margin.

Varg hated to lose, but it was only the first hunting competition, there would be a few more before the gathering was through, and there was always a certain element of luck involved. He harbored no ill will towards his cousin as he offered him his hand in congratulations.

"You made me fight for it, I like that," Raoul conceded as he accepted Varg's hand and extended the gesture into a friendly embrace.

Hope and joy swelled within Halea as the two males embraced with more sincerity than they had when Raoul first arrived at the gathering, and she could sense that Varg was warming up to this cousin.

A swarm of volunteers were soon hard at work skinning, gutting, cleaning, and preparing the meat for storage and that evening's meal.

Many gathered around Varg to hear more about the details of the day's hunt and Halea left them to it as she went to help her volunteers prepare for the dinner feast and celebration.

Úlfa and Ralphina arrived to offer assistance with the preparations when suddenly the rain began to fall.

"Great, looks like we're going to have to move the celebration into the caverns," Halea said to the females, who swiftly went to work clearing out the common area.

The only cavern large enough to hold the entire gathering was high up on the northeastern edge of the den. Varg and the other alphas joined in to ensure that everyone filed up the path in an orderly fashion as the rain continued to pelt down. Once almost everyone was up the side of the mountain, the massive iron double doors were opened wide, and the multitude began to file inside when suddenly a bolt of lightning cracked the sky.

When Halea looked back, her blood turned to ice as a tear opened on the mountainside, blocking their path back down to the den. Screams of terror mixed with howls of danger and panic spread as the sound of demons began to emerge and all at once the dimensional rift erupted with the servants of Chaos.

"Everyone into the cavern!" shouted Varg as he unsheathed the Fang.

Halea cursed that she didn't have her spear and there was no chance for her to retrieve it in time. All she had was the knife Varg had given her that she kept tucked within one of the secret inner pockets of her robe. She would have to depend on the warriors to battle the majority of the demons while she sealed the tear.

"Úlfa, please, get everyone into the cavern."

"Be careful, Halea," the other Wolfmother bade as Halea forced her way through the chaotic crowd and the pouring rain, back towards where the rest of the warriors stood to face the demons head-on.

Warriors from all the packs, led by the four alphas, assembled between the advancing demon horde and the lycan families who were taking refuge within the cavern. Halea was soon by Varg's side, her knife in hand. With only a glance, they knew they could depend on each other.

"I'll use the Fang to make a path for Halea. Once she makes it to the tear, we have to guard her at all costs. She is the only one who can seal it," Varg announced, and the others gave him room as he raised his sword. With a mighty force, he dropped the blade and a blinding white blast shot forth searing through hundreds of the advancing demons whose shrieks filled the air, but still, the path ahead was not clear as even more of the servants of Chaos emerged from the tear.

"What now?" asked Raoul.

"We're going in!" replied Varg, who charged ahead with Halea just behind him and the other warriors followed. Again he swung the Fang, and again the power of the sword demolished every demon in its wake until at last a path to the tear was cleared.

Halea raced ahead, dodging demons and purifying any that dared to come near her glowing fists as she made for the swirling purple vortex. All around her the warriors entered the fray, some changing into their wolf forms and others remaining humanoid as they tore into demons with claws and fangs. Whenever Varg shouted the order, the lycan warriors would fall back just enough to give him space to wield the Fang, but there was no end to the demon numbers. Soon another flood of dark servants poured from the tear, blocking Halea's ability to get close enough to seal the dimensional rift. With every moment the tear was growing larger, and her desperation was rising as no matter how she dodged or where she ran, the servants of Chaos seemed intent on singling her out and separating her from the safety of the pack.

" _I'm not wearing a priestess uniform anymore, but they must know that I'm blessed. Is this because of Lord Anshar?_ " she thought in dismay as she recalled how the mysterious entity had infiltrated the mind of the Dragon Lord and it made her wonder just how much the Chaos really knew about her.

Their numbers were too many, and soon the swarm was closing in. Before she knew it, she was separated from the pack as she fought to purify every servant of Chaos that came within reach as the rain continued to pour down. A black-eyed demon with a humanoid upper-body and the long tail of a snake pulled out a dark sword as it leaped ahead of the others and went straight for Halea. Her knife was no match for the demon's weapon, and she narrowly dodged the swing of its blade when its tail lashed out, knocking her feet out from under her and causing her to drop her weapon. She tried to scramble away, but before she could get back up its tail wrapped around her leg and began dragging her towards its waiting sword. She tried to pull away, but her strength was useless as her fingers could find nothing to grasp and only raked through the slippery mud as it dragged her to her doom.

"Halea," shouted Varg as he reached her just in time to block the black-eyed demon's sword with the Fang. With him were the rest of the lycans who fought to keep the swarm off them. Halea desperately tried to shake free of the demon's tail as Varg locked blades with the beast who put up an impressive fight against the Wolf King's masterful swordsmanship. As they battled over her, Halea's hand brushed against the cold steel of her knife buried in the mud beside her, and grasping the hilt, she called upon the Goddess as she stabbed the demon's tail, causing it to explode in the white light of purification. Varg quickly helped her to her feet.

"Are you okay?"

Though covered from head to toe in mud, she nodded as the battle raged on all around them.

"Get behind me!" Varg shouted to his people, and the warriors ducked or braced themselves, as again, the destruction of the Fang was unleashed.

In that one moment of silence that succeeded the shrieks of the demons as they were wiped clean from the earth, Halea raced for the tear only to be blocked as more demons emerged. Time was running out. If the rift grew much larger, it would be too much for her to seal alone and soon she found herself outnumbered.

She readied her knife for one last desperate charge and called upon Tiamet when a massive shaggy grey wolf leaped between her and the advancing horde and mercilessly tore into the demons, biting off heads and limbs and swiping them down with its massive paws.

"No, don't, you're too close to the tear!" she shouted through the rain while narrowly dodging the flashing dark weapon of another wraith before purifying it with her charged knife.

But it was too late. The wolf was swarmed and let out a piercing howl that ended in a whimper as the servants of Chaos fell upon it and repeatedly stabbed it without mercy until it struggled no more.

"Damn you!" Halea shouted as her entire body burned with Tiamet's light and she raced ahead, slashing down every demon that fell in her path and striking them with her purified fists until they burst into white flame. Varg and the other warriors were close behind her, holding back the rest of the servants of Chaos until Halea finally reached the tear, and raising her hands, she called upon the Goddess.

"Tiamet, give me strength," she prayed as her power surged forth. The sounds of battle filled her ears; the clashing of swords as Varg fought against the wraiths, the screams of pain mixed with shrieks and howls and the sickening splatter of blood as the lycans fought to defend her.

She kept her eyes closed to avoid seeing into the Chaos and instead focused on Tiamet's power that flowed through her body and enveloped the swirling purple vortex that slowly began to shrink. Sweat beaded on her brow only to be washed away by the rain, and her hands shook - the tear was too big. It had grown too fast, but she had to be strong enough. She couldn't let them down.

"Tiamet, please," she begged, and just as her strength was about to falter, the tear snapped closed, and thunder rolled in the sky.

Her body violently trembled, and despite the cold spring rain that drenched through her robes, she was burning hot. She struggled to remain standing as the world swam before her eyes, and just when she felt she would collapse, strong arms encircled her waist and lifted her from her feet.

"It's okay, Halea, I've got you," Varg said as he held her close. The commotion of the battle carried on as the remaining demons were either slaughtered or chased into the trees where they escaped. Without the tear to defend, they fanned out, and if not quickly caught and eliminated, they could eventually open more dimensional rifts.

"Track them down! Don't let them escape!" Varg commanded, and several dozen warriors broke off and chased after the fleeing demons.

"The injured?" she asked.

"There's a few, but worse…Halea, it's Ethelwolf, he's gone," he replied with strain evident in his voice and a glistening in his eyes that was not from the rain.

He shuddered against her as his emotions tore through their bond, and his anguish caused tears to spill from her eyes. It was more than the loss of a comrade or someone he deeply respected, Ethelwolf had been like family to him, and now he was gone.

Halea's tears were not just because of her empathic link to Varg; Ethelwolf had been kind to her. He had given her a chance. Though it had been tenuous between them at first, in time, the eastern alpha had come to accept her, and she had admired his nobility and his obvious devotion to his people, his family, and to Varg.

They had both desperately hoped that they could prevent the Swordmaster's prophecy, but they failed. There was nothing they could have done that would have changed the unfortunate fate of the eastern alpha, and this revelation struck Varg the hardest as he clutched his mate in his arms.

As Varg and Halea openly wept for the loss of their friend, many others joined them as they gathered around the fallen body of the eastern alpha and keening howls of mourning rose into the air admits sobs and laments. Ethelwolf had reverted back to his humanoid form, his lifeless eyes staring blankly into the heavens. Raoul reached down and gently closed them before several members of the eastern pack approached and hoisted up from the muddy ground.

Though weakened and feeling ill to her stomach, Halea insisted on tending to those injured by the dark weapons. It took almost every last ounce of her strength to rid the two inured southern males, and one of the northern females from the last remains of the evil poison of the dark weapons, and Varg had fretted over her the entire time as she grew noticeably pale. Once the job was done, she wanted to be sick, but she struggled to contain herself as Varg lifted her in his arms. The injured were taken back to the den, but the eastern wolves carried Ethelwolf's body back up the path, and Varg followed behind with Halea.

As they approached the top, Halea heard the frantic wailing and sobbing of someone in unbearable pain. As everyone parted to make way for the returning warriors, it was then that Halea saw who crying – it was Úlfa.

The eastern Wolfmother had ushered everyone to safety within the cavern, but after the doors were shut, she could focus on nothing but the bond she shared with her mate who was out there fighting to protect their people.

And then the bond was broken.

Her scream of unbridled pain echoed throughout the cavern, and everyone knew. In desperation, she threw open the doors and tried to run out to find him, but Otsana and several other members of her pack restrained her. It was too late; there was nothing she could do for her beloved mate. Her soul was rendered. Broken beyond repair. Defeated, she collapsed to her knees as her daughter held her and the two wept without restraint for the lost patriarch of their family.

Halea's tears renewed as she witnessed the display of grief before her. She knew that pain, that loss, she had felt it once before when the Swordmaster severed her bond with Varg to carry his soul before the wolf gods. But Varg had returned, for Úlfa, her mate would never come back.

Ethelwolf's was gently laid upon the ground before his pack and family, and everyone wept and hung their heads in sorrow.

Úlfa's sobs eventually stopped, but the light was gone from her eyes as she rose to her feet and went to the body of her fallen beloved. She gazed down on his face as silent tears streamed down her cheeks, before kneeling to lovingly caressed his face.

"Oh, Erish. I'm coming,"

"Mother?" Otsana asked.

Úlfa rose once again and turned to face her daughter.

"It's time. I must join him," she replied, and her daughter's face turned as hard as stone.

"No! No, Úlfa, don't!" Halea cried.

Lycans were incapable of carrying on without the bond they shared with their mate. Some could hold out for a few years if they had small children to raise, but once their cubs reached adulthood, the grieving parent would join their lost mate in the next world.

Otsana was a grown woman, and with Ethelwolf gone, for Úlfa, there was nothing left.

Úlfa glanced at Halea and offered her a sad smile.

"It's okay, Halea. Wolfmother. Don't cry. Please look after Otsana for me."

With conflict in her heart, Halea nodded and broke into a sob as Varg set her on her feet, while keeping her wrapped within his arms.

Varg mourned for Úlfa too, but he understood. He had seen many other lycans suffer this same fate. Even his own father could not survive the grief of losing a mate, and he knew it was unavoidable. Everyone knew. Every lycan there among them silently wept but remained still in the face of what was to come.

Úlfa turned back to Otsana, who stood motionless with her hands balled into trembling fists at her side. The eastern Wolfmother wrapped her arms around her shaking daughter and quietly spoke a single word into her ear that was drowned out to everyone else by the noise of the wind and rain.

With lips pursed into a tight quivering line, Otsana nodded her head once and watched as her mother turned and began to walk towards the mountain's edge.

"No. No, this is wrong," Halea protested when she could bear it no longer. "This is wrong! Stop her! Somebody stop her, please! Somebody stop her! Otsana! Otsana, don't let her do this," she shrieked as she broke away from Varg's grasp and ran to Otsana, taking hold of her furs and shaking her until she was forced to meet her gaze, but there was nothing but cold emptiness beyond the dark blue of her eyes.

"Stop her, please! Don't let her do this!"

Otsana said nothing as Halea released her grip.

"Halea, this is the way it must be," Varg said as he reached out and tried to calm his mate, but she spun away from his grasp and raced to catch up with Úlfa who was approaching the edge.

"Úlfa, no! Stop. You don't have to do this," she sobbed, but in her weakened state, Varg caught up and tackled her before she could reach the eastern Wolfmother. "No, Varg. Stop her! Someone stop her, please," she screamed as she thrashed in her mate's arms until Varg was forced to pick her up and carry her away.

"Úlfa! Úlfa!" she screamed as Varg whisked her back down the mountain, sparing her from hearing the sickening crunch as Úlfa's body plummeted onto the rocks below.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A note from your humble author** : POW! Right in your feels! At least I hope anyway. I'm sure most of you saw this coming and are probably guessing what's going to happen next, but even more will happen than you realize. MWAHAHAHAHA.
> 
> I had a pretty productive writing blitz a couple weeks ago, so as far as writing ahead goes I'm 1/3 of the way through chapter 13 atm. I plan to do another blitz this week too because I want to get as far ahead as possible before the surgery I have scheduled for the end of August and I'm not sure I'll have much time or desire to write with all that going on. Don't worry, it's nothing serious.
> 
> Still no news on the SPFBO competition, but I'll keep you posted on any reviews or interviews that go up.
> 
> Also, today is the LAST DAY to enter my Rafflecopter giveaway for free signed paperback copies of books 1 and 2. Check my blog jmriddles dot com for info, it's right on the home page.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! Please let me know what you thought of this chapter!


	9. Fight

Even after taking her back to their private hot spring to wash off the mud and carrying her to their bed, she was inconsolable.

Varg's chest was soaking wet with tears, but he never let Halea go as she sobbed to the point of nearly making herself sick from hyperventilating. Úlfa's death had broken her, and he felt nothing but torment inside because he knew it was more than just the loss of the eastern Wolfmother – it was him.

Halea had known the truth of what happens when lycans lose a mate for a long time, and she knew that he would do the same for her, but somehow, seeing it for herself made it unbearably real. When the Swordmaster severed their bond, it had been only for a moment. Would she have longed for death if Varg's soul had never returned? She was told that because she was human, it would be different for her, that she could live on, but she didn't know if that was true. Humans usually didn't end their own lives with the death of a partner, though it wasn't unheard of, but for lycans, it was different. Once mated, they couldn't go on without their bond and would seek to join their mates in the next life by any means necessary. The emptiness she saw in Úlfa's eyes haunted her as she imagined what it would be like if it had been Varg. For that to happen, she would have to be dead and gone first, but that didn't matter, she couldn't bear to think of the light going out in Varg's beautiful eyes because of losing her. She didn't want to imagine him destroying himself, even if that was the only way for them to be together, but inside the creeping terror brought whispered doubts.

She was still Tiamet's last chosen sacrifice. What if there was no other hope? She was bound to Varg through blood and spirit, and if anything happened to her, he would die, and it would be all her fault. Her very existence had cursed him.

"They were after me. I know they were after me, just like that mimic I found in the forest, or that black-eyed demon in the chariot. Chaos knows that I'm the last chosen of Tiamet. It must know. It was in Lord Anshar's head. Ethelwolf and Úlfa are dead because my presence drew the Chaos here, and if anything happens to me, you'll die too!"

"Halea, don't…"

"And what if there is no other way? What if my death is the only solution?"

He wanted to tell her that everything would be okay, that he could protect her, but the Swordmaster's prophecy hung over him more ominously than ever before. They had failed to protect Ethelwolf. Despite all their vigilance and best efforts, the crow's prophecy had been inevitable. He could no longer mask the bond as terror and helplessness welled up within him as he realized her fate was sealed – she would die. He would lose her. Someday. Somehow. He would lose her. And she wanted the comfort of knowing that he would never harm himself or suffer if he lost her, but he could not offer her that comfort. He couldn't lie and tell her that he wouldn't follow her into the next world. He knew that she felt guilty for jeopardizing his life, but he couldn't allow her to feel that way.

"Halea, I won't have you blaming yourself for whatever happens to me. Your Goddess didn't bless you, she cursed you. This is all her fault. None of this should have ever been placed on your shoulders, and to be honest, it shouldn't have been placed on the other priestesses either, perhaps not even the Dragon. What good has come of it? If Tiamet wanted to save this world, why can't she just banish the convergence herself? Why kill those who love and worship her? Why torment her own kin? What kind of merciful Goddess is that? I know you think you've doomed me, but I will never regret meeting you and falling in love with you. Never."

She wept silently as he spoke. It wasn't that she wanted to give up, but more with every day, hope seemed to be slipping between her fingers.

"I want to believe that Tiamet can still save us, but if not, then what hope is there?"

He gently stroked the tears from her cheek as he gazed into her shimmering hazel-green eyes.

"There's me. There's us. You said it yourself; we're a team – aren't we? Whatever the future brings, we need to face it together. You'd fight for me, wouldn't you?"

"Of course, until my last breath," she proclaimed.

"And I will fight for you – until my last breath. No matter what happens, we'll be together - always. So no more dwelling on the worst possible scenario because this fight's not over yet. I'm going to do everything in my power to protect you, and I know you'll do the same for me," he said. Though he didn't know when or how their end would come, he knew that together they would fight to save their people and their world.

"Oh, Varg, I love you so much," she said as her heart swelled into her throat and her tears renewed, but this time for joy as his words lifted her up out of the darkness and rekindled the fire of determination within her.

"I love you too, Halea. I swear; I'll never let you go."

* * *

The rain finally stopped, and the air smelled fresh and sweet. In the distance, above the trees, a rainbow shimmered.

Samesa loved the spring and lived for the coming of summer. Everything was brilliant green as she moved through the forest. Things had been quiet, only a few bestial demons, but no new tears, and occasionally she would encounter some of her fellow priestesses, who also reported a strange lull in Chaos activity.

But she never dropped her guard.

Since her strange encounter with the demon that mimicked a human child, she had become distrusting of everyone she encountered in her wanderings. She couldn't shake an unsettling worry that gnawed at her from the inside. Why did that demon attack her mind instead of just killing her right away? What information could it want?

"Damn it!" she cursed as one of her bootlaces suddenly popped, and she tossed her bag and spear down in irritation before finding somewhere to sit where she could perform a mending spell. Her feet were killing her anyway, and it felt nice to pull the boot off and stretch out her toes. She never wore shoes or boots as a child as she had always preferred to run around barefoot and would even put up a fuss when her mother insisted she wear a pair of sandals for special occasions. There was no escaping the necessity for sturdy footwear in the comparably colder northern lands.

She remembered the first time she complained to Rena, her mentor cleric, about her toes being cold when they finally reached the holy city of Ruinac. Rena had left her alone and disappeared to some random stall in the marketplace, and when she returned, she was carrying a shiny pair of black leather boots with glittering silver buckles running up the sides.

They were beautiful, and the moment she put them on her feet, she felt instant relief from the cold. She had hugged Rena in gratitude for the wonderful gift, and the cleric laughed at her youthful exuberance.

Something wet trickled down the side of her face, and when Samesa brushed it away, she found that she was crying.

It always hurt inside when she thought of her cleric mentor. She had been away on a mission when Rena died, and she never got to say goodbye. She never had the chance to thank her for saving her life or for setting her on her destined path. She had always just assumed there would be time enough to say all those things, but she was an immortal, and Rena was not, and she would have to live every day for the rest of eternity carrying that regret like an unshakable weight.

As she worked the simple spell to mend her broken bootlace, she heard a rustling through the brush. Someone was coming. She quickly dropped her boot and snatched her spear, but she sighed in relief when the familiar red-hooded robe of a cleric appeared through the trees.

"Gods, you startled me," she declared with a laugh that released the tension from within her.

"Samesa?" the hooded cleric asked.

"Yes, were you looking for me? Who are you?"

"It's me, Rena," the cleric replied while pulling down the hood of her robe.

Samesa's dark eyes grew wide, and she forgot to breathe as she beheld the unmistakable face of her mentor. She looked a little older, a few more gray hairs, but it was her. It was Rena.

"Rrr…Rena? No, it can't be. You died. They said you died when I was on a mission. I saw your grave."

"That wasn't me, Samesa. It was a mistake. I never died. I'm here. I've been looking all over for you. I've missed you so much," Rena explained while stepping closer and Samesa's heart thundered in her chest.

It seemed too incredible to believe, but it had to be true, and a choking sob erupted from her throat as she reached out to embrace her lost friend.

But just before she could reach her outstretched arms, someone grabbed her from behind and pulled her away.

"Don't touch it!" a man's voice commanded.

"Let go!" Samesa shouted as she struggled within the powerfully strong arms of her captor, but suddenly Rena sprang forward, her face twisting and distorting as her chest split open revealing a long spiked appendage that shot out towards her.

Samesa screamed in horror, but the person holding her pulled her to the side in time to avoid the stab of the barb, and before she could react, he produced a dagger.

"Get back, demon," he shouted as he brandished his weapon and Rena's deformed face tore open revealing mandibles that snapped as it shrieked, but the man threw his dagger into the creature's throat.

Samesa wasted no time charging her spear and springing in-between the man and the demon, where she struck the creature with all her strength. It let out a horrible piercing wail as it burst from the purification and an acrid green smoke rose like a cloud from its charred remains and eerily slipped between the trees.

"Are you okay," the man asked, but as she watched the last of the smoke disappear, she could focus on nothing else, and his words were muffled by the pounding of her pulse within her ears.

"Hey, Samesa, are you all right?" he asked again, and she registered a warm hand on her shoulder, which startled her to her senses.

Finally turning to address the stranger, she took notice of his appearance.

"It's you!"

She recognized the tall, slender man with the wavy brown hair, and the long, thin face and shining black eyes as the mysterious stranger she once met when she was alone in the woods. He must have remembered her as well because he had called her by name.

"Heh. Yeah. Me again. I'm sorry for scaring you like that, but you were in danger, and I had to step in."

"But how? Who are you?"

His glittering black eyes darted around nervously, and there was an uncomfortably long silence before he finally replied.

"Sufur. I'm…a ranger."

"Sufur? That's a terrible name. I don't believe you. You don't sound like you're from around here, and you're not dressed like a ranger. They usually travel in groups. Who are you really?" she interrogated while narrowing her eyes in scrutiny. No ordinary man could hold back her superior priestess strength. There was something strange about him, and the way he spoke, as he came from a foreign land.

"No, it's true! I am a ranger," he quickly defended. "My mother and I crossed the sea to come to this country when I was quite young. I guess my name is unusual here. Normally we rangers do travel in groups, but between our usual duties and all of these strange demon attacks, most of us have split up to cover more ground."

"And your uniform?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Look, you're not going to believe me if I tell you that it was stolen."

"Stolen?" she incredulously shouted.

"It's a pretty funny story actually, but I'd appreciate it if you didn't rat me out for it. The others wouldn't let me live it down."

Samesa looked him up and down but still didn't believe him.

"And you're just wandering around in the wilds without any gear?"

"I'm used to it out here and don't need much in the way of gear. I was practically raised outdoors. I don't even need a tinder kit because I'm a fire-caster."

"Prove it."

He held out his hands and spoke a few words in the ancient language, and a tiny flame appeared above his palms.

She couldn't help but be convinced. Rangers were known for their skill with elemental spells, and she did recall that he had offered her the warmth of his fire when she first met him in the woods. He didn't have any gear then either. Maybe he had just seemed unusually strong because she had let her guard down.

"I'm sorry for doubting you," she said while gazing jealously at the tiny flame that dwindled away within his hands. She had always wished to have mastery of just such an elemental spell but had never shown any aptitude for magic use beyond what the Goddess had given her.

"Don't worry about it. I can't blame you for being on your guard after what we've both just seen," he said while smiling in relief to finally have her trust.

A wave of nausea seized her as she recalled the horrible demon mimic. It had presented itself as the shade of Rena – a shade mimic. Sufur had distracted her for a moment, but now her mind was reeling at the implications of what she had just seen. It was a demon. It was just like the demon that mimicked the child, and when it was slain, it produced the same mysterious green smoke. But why Rena?

"It disguised itself as my cleric mentor. She's dead. Has been for years. But how did it know what she looked like? How did it know my name? And how could you tell that it was a demon when I couldn't?"

"It stank of demon," he replied.

"But I didn't smell anything."

His eyes darted away from hers as he quickly explained. "You must have been too distracted to notice. I was passing through the woods when I heard voices. That's when I saw that you were in danger."

Samesa wasn't sure what he meant by stinking of demon. Some of the more bestial servants of Chaos did have a foul stench about them, but the humanoid demons didn't have a noticeable smell unless they were cut open as their blood was rather noxious. Perhaps she really had been too distracted to notice that detail.

"This isn't the first shade mimic I've encountered. A while back, I found a little boy lost and alone in the forest. He was begging for help. When I got close, he did something to me. He got into my head. I saw my memories. My childhood. My journey to the north. Rena. I fought the creature out of my mind, and when I came to, it was no longer a child, but a demon, and when I killed it, that same strange green smoke rose from its remains and escaped into the woods. Perhaps it didn't fully die. It just took what it wanted from my mind and passed the knowledge on to another mimic who could use a more clever deception to finish the job."

"If you had any secrets, they might be compromised now," Sufur pondered with a furrowed brow.

Samesa thoughtfully gnawed her lip. There could only be one thing the Chaos would want from her.

"I know where all of our priestesses have been hiding, and I bet the Chaos knows now too. I have to warn them," she shouted as she began scrambling to get her boot back on.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" he asked with genuine concern in his dark, glittering eyes.

"Yes, if you see any priestesses or clerics in your travels, approach with caution. If they really are servants of Tiamet and not more demons in disguise, tell them to contact me or find me as soon as possible and warn them to trust no one and beware the shade mimics."

"If I see anyone of your faith, I'll spread the word. But what about you, will you be okay?"

Samesa clenched her fist tight around her spear before replying. "I won't be fooled again."

* * *

Halea remained silent as the elders conducted the funeral rights. As Wolfmother, she probably should have offered a few prayers, but she couldn't speak. The words remained caged behind her lips, and if she opened her mouth to try, her breath would hitch, and her eyes would grow moist.

Varg stood with his arms wrapped around her from behind in loving support as one by one, the lycans stepped forward to add stones to the cairns, along with flowers and other offerings. These were only temporary graves, when the gathering was over, the bodies of the eastern alphas would be carried home to their own sacred burial grounds where they would be permanently laid to rest.

When Otsana approached the graves, she knelt and added flowers and few more stones to the piles, but despite her actions, her face was emotionless, and her eyes empty and dry. Halea turned in Varg's embraced and buried her face in his chest as she shed the tears that Otsana could not.

The she-wolf turned her dark blue eyes on the alpha pair, and for the briefest of moments, a shadow of jealous longing passed over her face, but she said nothing and lowered her gaze before slowly trudging back down the path towards the den.

"I should talk her," Halea said when they were finally all alone.

Varg nodded and gave her one last gentle squeeze of encouragement before releasing her from his arms. Since the attack on the den, warriors from all four packs had set out to find the remaining demons that escaped that day, and many had already been caught and slain, though a few eluded them by fleeing beyond the borders of their territory. With the den's safety compromised, everyone was on edge, and Varg had ordered sentries to guard the perimeter of their lands to ensure the servants of Chaos did not return.

When Varg and Halea returned to the den, every face was darkened with despair, and the once lively atmosphere had grown sour with grief. Groups of lycans clustered around unlit fire pits and muttered voices spoke of what would become of the eastern pack without its alpha pair.

"Alpha Varg," a voice called, and a lycan male stepped forward and bowed. It was Fenris.

Varg looked down on the eastern male and reluctantly acknowledged him. Beside him, Halea grew tense.

"You may speak, brother Fenris."

"I wish to state my formal intent to battle for the right to be the eastern alpha. Let any who wish to challenge me come forth!" he loudly declared, and the den erupted in shocked voices mixed with shouts of support and dissent.

Halea was about to open her mouth in protest when Varg placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. Though the eastern alphas had only just been buried, this was the lycan way, and she balled her hands into fists as she swallowed her anger.

"I will challenge!" shouted Ivaylo, a male from the eastern pack, and soon one more, Lovel, stepped forward to also announce his claim.

"Very well. Tonight – let it be decided," Varg declared as he raised his voice above the din.

The crowd began to disburse as everyone swarmed the challenger of their choice to offer encouragement or praise, but Halea couldn't help but notice that Otsana was nowhere to be found.

"Her scent trail runs that way," Varg said while pointing out past the northwestern tree-dwellings and towards the edge of the hunting grounds. "Find her."

"I will," Halea promised as she raced away from the den.

Years of tracking demons allowed her to easily discern the she-wolf's path as the light footprints of someone walking alone stretched out through the trees and towards where the river flowed before the vantage point. There, she found Otsana sitting upon the rocks at the river's edge, staring absently into the flowing water as the sun set in the west.

"What do you want?" she grumbled without even looking behind.

Halea knew the direction of the wind had betrayed her, but spying had not been her intent, so she approached the eastern she-wolf.

"I'm sorry for your loss."

"Why do you care?" Otsana snapped. "They weren't even your parents…and yet you... Why do you care?" she asked again, her voice quieter as her eyes became glossy.

"I liked your parents. I didn't know them for very long, but they were good people. They were good to Varg, and they were good to me. I didn't want…" Halea struggled to explain, but grew silent as she bit her tongue from revealing the crow's prophecy. "I know it's the lycan way, but I didn't want to see your mother go like that. I do care."

Otsana stared at the glistening river and took a deep and shaky breath as the warm summer wind caressed her face. Halea's frantic screams still echoed in her memories, haunting her in a way that she couldn't forget because inside, she had been screaming too.

Moments passed, but Otsana seemed to have nothing else to say, and Halea's gut wrenched in guilt.

"I care about you too, Otsana."

The she-wolf's eyes grew wide, and her hands clenched into fists in her lap, but Halea went on.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you by leaving the way I did. I didn't think what I was doing mattered that much to you. You always acted as if you didn't want my help, at least at first. I just assumed you wanted me gone and wouldn't care when I left."

"That's not true," Otsana spoke in a trembling voice as unrestrained tears flowed down her cheeks.

Halea struggled to force back a sob as she was wracked with even worse guilt.

"I was wrong. Your mother told me you needed help and I left you in the lurch without even so much as a goodbye, but for what it's worth, I liked sparring with you. Varg is such an overprotective worrywart since we mated, he never wants to fight with me anymore, and it felt nice to have someone to train with again. I don't want you to give up on your dream of being an alpha. I know how much it means to you, and your mother knew it too. I think that's why she wanted me to help you…and I let you both down. I'm so sorry, Otsana."

Otsana had finally turned to face Halea as she spoke, and her lips trembled as she absorbed her words.

"She spoke only one word before…" the she-wolf faltered as she choked on a fresh surge of tears. "Fight."

"She was right. You have to," Halea said as she wept, but her determination alighted from within. "She believed in you, Otsana. She wanted you to fight. You have to fight for your right to lead your pack. Right now, the males are getting ready to battle. Fenris has already declared his intentions, and if you don't stop him, he'll take everything away from you. Please, you can't let him do that!"

"I don't think I'm strong enough."

"Yes, you are! I believe in you too! Remember when I asked you to pray? You have strength and control when you calm your mind and stop doubting yourself. Why should you doubt yourself? You said you're a true alpha! Well are you or aren't you? Your mother wanted me to help you because it's not about being a woman, it's about being who you really are, and you're an alpha. Are you going to just sit there and let some man take that away from you?"

"No," Otsana replied and rose to her feet. Her tears had stopped, and her eyes burned with a new light. "I am an alpha, and I will take what's mine or die fighting."

* * *

By the time Halea and Otsana returned to the den, it was nightfall, and almost everyone was gathered in the sacred cave. The elders had already chosen the order of competitors by the ritual of the fangs, and the first battle was about to commence. Lovel and Ivaylo entered the circle and voices rose in excitement and howls rang out as the challengers faced each other

Varg spotted Halea and Otsana as they entered the cave and hailed them to join him at the best seats in the front. The pounding of the staffs reverberated off the cave walls, and Halea's heart thundered in her chest as she recalled the first alpha battle she had ever seen. Varg had won the right to be king in this sacred cave, but this time it was not Varg who would be fighting, beside her, Otsana sat as taut as a drawn bowstring.

The two males squared off in a brutal match where blood was shed, and bones were cracked. This was not the innocent, refereed fun of the festival wrestling matches; this was a serious bid for power where a life could be taken if defeat was not an option. Ivaylo managed to pin Lovel face-down on the ground with his knee in his back, and seizing him by the scalp; he pulled back his head and pressed his claws into his opponent's neck.

"Submit, or I'll tear out your throat!" threatened Ivaylo.

"I submit!" Lovel growled in defeat.

Halea sighed in relief that the match didn't end in a fatality, but she couldn't help being nervous when Fenris entered the circle.

The sweat and blood were toweled off Ivaylo, but despite winning the last match, he had taken a considerable beating, and it didn't look like he was fit to challenge again so soon, but there would be no delay. The fate of the eastern pack would be decided that night.

Howls and cheers mixed with the pounding of the staffs and Fenris seemed pleased with the amount of support he was receiving. He wore a cocky smile as Ivaylo stood before him, and with lightning-quick ferocity, Fenris swung a right hook that Ivaylo was unable to dodge in time and was promptly knocked unconscious. The fight was over.

"One hit! Did you see that?" shouted several voices.

Fenris's name was being chanted as he raised his fists in victory. Ivaylo remained prostrate on the cave floor. He was alive, but in rough condition, and several volunteers entered the circle and gently carried him away.

Beside Halea, Otsana did not move.

"Otsana?" Halea asked, but the she-wolf only stared ahead in horror. "Otsana, look at me!" she commanded, and her words snapped the female lycan from her trance, and she met Halea's gaze.

"Ask your gods for strength. You can do this!" Halea said as she placed her hand on Otsana's shoulder and gave it an encouraging squeeze.

Otsana nodded once and took a deep inhalation before closing her eyes, and Halea noticed the whites of her knuckles fading as she unclenched her fists and some of the rigidity passed as her breathing grew steady. When at last, she opened her eyes, they glowed with a new fire of determination.

Marrok was just entering the circle to congratulate Fenris on his victory when one voice rose above the rest.

"I shall challenge!" Otsana called as she leaped into the circle, and one by one the voices fell silent until even the pounding of the staffs had grown still.

"A female?" a shocked voice proclaimed.

"A female challenger!" cried another, until more voices joined in an eruption of objection and doubt.

"Silence!" Batsuba shouted over the crowd, and the protests stilled.

"A female may challenge. There is no law against it. It has been done before and can be done again. Victory to the strong and power to the brave – that is our way. Is this what you wish?" Batsuba asked Otsana with a gleam in her knowing black eyes.

"Yes, I challenge for the right to be alpha of the eastern pack," Otsana spoke loud and clear, and voices rose again in a mixture of support and dismay.

Fenris narrowed his eyes in irritation.

"What's wrong? Afraid to fight a woman?" she taunted.

"It's your funeral," he growled, and the elders left the challengers' area.

Halea nervously clutched Varg's hand and offered a silent prayer as the two eastern lycans slowly circled each other. From this point on, Otsana's fate was in the hands of the gods.

Fenris waited for an opening and lunged forward with an uppercut that Otsana only narrowly dodged, and with a graceful pivot, she punched the eastern male twice in the ribs before he recovered his stance. Fenris growled in pain and kicked her in the stomach, causing her to fall and roll. She clutched her abdomen and snarled but was quickly up again and leaping in for the attack. They tore into each other with claws that sprayed blood across the fighters' circle, and fists that impacted loudly upon flesh and bone. The two lycans bared their fangs and growled as red seeped dangerously around the edges of their eyes and Fenris's attacks increased in brutality.

Otsana was struggling to hold off her opponent whose rage was growing with every moment. She took ruthless punch after punch to the face until one of her teeth went flying out her mouth, and her right eye began to swell. She couldn't last much longer, and just as Fenris was about to deliver another blow, she caught his fist mid-flight and twisted his arm using his momentum against him and sending him flying across the circle. Fenris fell for only a moment but was quickly back up again, and his eyes were entirely red. He charged Otsana in anger, fangs elongated and claws ready to strike, but again she avoided his attack and managed to knee him in the stomach before elbowing him in the face and sending him to the ground with a low-sweeping kick.

Halea's gasp was drowned out by the sound of the pounding staffs and the shouts of excitement. She recognized that move – the water-dragon.

Again, Fenris lunged for Otsana with intent to kill, but there was no fear in her eyes and no trace of rage, as if a strange calm had fallen over her and with perfect fluid grace, she was able to use the eastern male's reckless anger against him. As he charged, she launched a series of fast kicks into his sternum, causing him to growl in pain and stumble backward. His one moment of imbalance gave her the advantage she needed, and she sprang forward, launching her full bodyweight on top of him and sending him to the ground with a thud. Once he was pinned, she sunk her claws deep into his chest, causing ribs to crack and blood to pour out of his mouth.

"Submit," she snarled, and for one moment the cavern fell deathly silent and not even the pounding of the staffs was heard as Fenris tipped back his head, exposing his throat in submission.

It was over.

An eruption of shouts and cheers and howls sounded throughout the cave as Otsana stood, her hand dripping with blood and her eye almost entirely swollen shut. Batsuba and the eastern pack healer jumped into the circle to check on Fenris. A mortal creature could have never survived such a wound, but his therian healing power kept him from the edge of death as the healers quickly tended his injury.

Halea also jumped into the circle, but instead of helping with Fenris, who was already in good hands, she leaped upon Otsana and hugged her as all the lycans shouted her praise and raised howls in her honor.

"You did it! I knew you could!" Halea cried in joy, and though in terrible pain, the new eastern Wolfmother returned her embrace and gently laid her head on Halea's shoulder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A note from your humble author** : Such a tender moment, well, after practically being tenderized. Something seems to have changed about Otsana. I wonder what it could be? MWAHAHAHA. 😈
> 
> Hope you guys are still enjoying the story. I'm up to chapter 14, which is nearly done. Wrapping up a series with THIS many characters is quite a challenge, so if you see any plot holes, inconsistent character behaviors/motivations, or other story mistakes, please point them out for me so I can fix them ASAP. It's always easier to fix mistakes if I can find them early, and by book 3 of a series, I pretty much can't get beta readers anymore. Getting beta readers when I was 2 books in was nearly impossible, by 3 books it's just not going to happen, so I really depend on you guys who have been following the series to point out errors and plot holes for me. As always, thank you so much for reading and for all your support and kindness!


	10. Fealty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A note from your humble author** : I'm so, so sorry this is going up hours way later than I usually post, but this has been a really terrible week for me. My husband was sick, my property manager has been making my life a living hell, and my best friend just had brain surgery, and on top of all that I'm getting ready for my own surgery in two weeks – so yeah, I was a little behind on getting this edited and posted today.

"How are things in Antherose?" asked Mama Dragon.

"I haven't been back since the rangers took Lord Anshar's castle. It's too depressing. There's nothing there for us anyway," replied Kalee as she strolled through the forest beside the motherly priestess.

"What about Favion? Isn't he still there?"

Kalee's face grew as red as her hair for a moment, and she avoided Mama Dragon's questioning gaze.

"Yes, but you know he can go wherever he wants. It's not like it matters."

Mama Dragon pursed her lips. It was for the best. Kalee was an oath-sworn immortal priestess, and Favion wasn't bound by their commitments. She doubted Kalee was entirely honest about her indifference, but it would be best for her to keep her distance. Even with Lord Anshar gone, and perhaps the oath not mattering as much, they still had a job to do, and until the world was no longer in danger, they needed the full devotion of every priestess they had. If only Rufus could understand that.

No sooner had the thought of her adopted son passed her mind when she heard a falcon crying out on the wind.

"Rufus is back!" Kalee cheerily stated the obvious. Having a therian for a secret ally amused her, particularly because she was one of the few who knew the truth about Rufus, and that made her feel important.

Mama Dragon could tell by the way he was coming in straight instead of circling down that there was no need for her to extend her gloved hand, and sure enough, the falcon shifted into his humanoid form upon landing.

"Hi, Kalee, Sophia," he greeted though his large, reflective eyes had a nervous quality that Mama Dragon did not miss.

"Oh, gods, what happened now?" she asked.

"Yeah, that message you asked me to deliver to Samesa. I kind of didn't. But something happened!" he quickly explained as Sophia's face scrunched in disapproval.

"What happened?" Mama Dragon asked again, her tone growing stern.

"Samesa was attacked by a shade mimic. I had no choice but to save her in my humanoid form."

"Rufus, she's a priestess, she can handle herself!"

"No, she had no idea. These new demons can appear as anyone. Anyone! A random stranger, a child, and if they get into your mind, they can appear as someone you know, or someone you used to know. They don't really die when you kill them, and what information they gather, they can pass on to others. They're using deception to get closer to the devotees than they've ever been able to before. Everyone's in real danger! Samesa was nearly killed by these things twice already. The second time it presented itself as a cleric she used to know. This is serious! No priestess is prepared to battle this sort of enemy, and the only way you can tell that they're demons in disguise is by their smell. They don't stink of demon as strongly as the others, so you have to get a bit closer before you notice it, and they don't seem to leave a scent trail. If I hadn't smelled the truth when I was passing by to deliver that message, she'd have walked right into its trap."

"This is awful! What are we going to do? The Chaos has never created such creatures before. If we can't tell whose friend and whose foe, we're in trouble!" cried Kalee.

"I'm sorry, Rufus. You're right. This is a serious problem. We're human. We don't have a therian's sense of smell, and if that's the only way to detect these things, we're at a severe disadvantage."

"The lycans!" declared Kalee. "We can go to Halea for shelter. They've helped us before, and she's on our side. Lycans can smell the difference between humans and demons. With them, we'd be safe. We can gather every cleric and priestess and stay with the wolves until we find a way to defeat these things."

"I don't think Varg would be too keen on that," replied Rufus.

"Perhaps not, but the agreement we made before was because he was afraid our presence would draw the unwanted attention of Lord Anshar," recalled Mama Dragon. "With him trapped in the mirror, that concern is over, though I know those wolves still don't particularly care for humans. But as much as they may dislike us, they hate demons even more, and we're on the same side when it comes to battling Chaos. There's nowhere for us in the city, and now the wilds aren't safe. We're out of options. Rufus, can you go and ask Halea and Varg to give us sanctuary?"

"Ugh," he groaned.

"He's not going to eat you!" argued Mama Dragon.

"He might."

Despite the dire circumstance, Kalee giggled at Rufus's reluctance.

"Don't worry. You've helped him out before, doesn't he owe you one? And Halea's there. Please, Rufus, you can get there faster than us, and we don't have a lot of time," Kalee begged.

"Fine," he sighed in defeat while unconsciously rubbing his arm. The broken bone had healed perfectly, and if not for Varg setting it, he could have permanently lost his ability to fly. Though the wolf had been the one to break it in the first place, perhaps it was time to bury the hatchet.

"Thank you, Rufus. We'll start gathering the priestesses and clerics, and as soon as you give us their answer, we'll set out for the lycan territory," said Mama Dragon as she placed an appreciative and comforting hand on his shoulder.

* * *

The skies had finally cleared, allowing the warm sun to shine down on the last of the games. That night would be the first full moon of spring and the last night of the gathering. A meeting of the lycan council would be called, and then a final feast and celebration.

Raul was not particularly disappointed as the final hunting competition of the gathering ended in Varg's victory. Varg was no longer the precocious cub that used to follow the warriors like a shadow, and Raul had to admit that he had grown into a capable alpha. But was a decent alpha also a worthy king? He had been considering the situation since his arrival.

As far as physical strength and capability as a warrior went, Varg had been well-trained by his father and his power and will were undeniable. Everywhere the Wolf King went, his people treated him with the respect and adoration befitting of a true leader, and Varg appeared firm but fair, as a good alpha should be. His choice of a mate had caused him concern at first, but despite being human, Halea demonstrated the will of an alpha, and at every turn, she had proven her love and devotion to not just her pack, but to all their people. She had made a bit of a spectacle of herself at the death of the eastern alphas, but perhaps that was just how humans handled their grief. The fact that she had grieved at all proved that she cared, and she had even supported the new eastern Wolfmother in her bid for power. She was also friends with some of the northern pack, and it made him regret that his own pack had initially been so unwelcoming towards her.

Then there was the issue of the demon attack, which had significantly altered his perspective on the alpha pair. They had done everything in their power to ensure the safety of those who could not fight first, then gathered the warriors and faced the danger head-on. Varg had wielded the Fang with the expertise of a true swordmaster, and Raoul knew such skill was beyond him. He had seen the wolf gods' favor for Varg with his own eyes, and though no longer a priestess, Halea seemed to still retain the favor of her Dragon Goddess. Working together with the ultimate power of the Fang, the advantage of a former priestess, and the full cooperation of all the packs, they had sealed the largest tear he had ever seen and slain the demon horde. Some had been injured, and lives had been lost, but it wasn't for lack of ability or effort on their part. They had done all that they could, and all the injured had survived. Varg had successfully overseen the elimination of the demon stragglers and posted extra guards around their borders to assuage the fears of their people.

Even before winning the right to be the alpha of the southern pack, Raoul had worried for his people, and now it was time to decide if he could entrust their fate to Varg. As the sun began to set, the elders and alphas gathered once more in the sacred cave where any formal matters would be introduced and settled.

The council began with a ritual or prayers and offerings, and Halea watched with interest as the elders conducted the religious ceremony, asking the wolf gods to bless their hunts, and to bestow them with plenty, prosperity, and protection. Batsuba, Marrok, and several other elders took turns offering prayers in the ancient language before an altar at the base of a statue of the wolf gods, their heads the heads of wolves, but their bodies were humanoid. After the prayers were over, Varg rose and began the meeting.

"Brothers, sisters, thank you for joining this council. Tonight, we must settle several matters while we are all still gathered here together. Who would like to speak first?"

Everyone waited patiently while small issues were presented first before the king and council. They discussed the migratory patterns of the herds, individuals changing packs for apprenticeships, trade agreements, and of course, demon and tear activity, which, except for the attack at the gathering, seemed to be on the decline.

"There is one matter of great importance, at least to myself, that I must address," added Varg after he had finished hearing everyone else out. "We are wolves. We do not deny our nature. We are predators. Hunters. Warriors. We hold the right to defend our lands by any means necessary, and any who invade our territory are subject to our swift punishment. But, I would like to make a decree, from this day forth, if anyone is found trespassing in our territory, be they human or therian, they must be issued one warning first. If any refuse to heed this warning, you may deal with them as you please, but under no circumstance are they to be eaten. There is better prey to be had. And, yes, I can't deny that this decision comes from a place of bias," he admitted while casting loving eyes on Halea who looked back at him with delighted adoration. "Are there any who object?" he asked when he turned his gaze back to the council.

"I support this decision. They're hardly our primary food source, and most are foul-tasting anyway," offered Bertolf, and though he didn't mention it, this had already been the practice of the northern pack since his brother brought the human woman, Jance, into their lives.

"I'm fine with issuing a warning. Some humans seem to stumble onto our lands by accident. As long as they leave right away and do no harm, there's no need to slaughter them on sight," added Raoul, who had never liked how unbending Rafe had been when it came to how brutally human trespassers were dealt with in the past. "As for eating them, it's no loss to us. Perhaps it was done more in the past when times were hard and good meat wasn't as easy to come by, but these days we are more than capable of feeding our own without resorting to such means of survival."

"I have no complaints," spoke Otsana, and one by one the elders began to voice their opinions on the issue until everyone was in accord.

"Then this matter is settled," Varg decreed. "And now on to the most important thing that has brought us here today; there are now two new alphas. Alpha Raoul, you may present yourself before the council."

Raoul rose and addressed the other alphas and elders.

"I, Raoul, have won the right to be the leader of the southern pack through single combat. It was I who requested Supreme Alpha Varg to call this gathering, not just to present myself before the council, but also to voice my concerns about the situation with the Chaos Dimension. I have seen the destruction of tears and demons, and it was my opinion that perhaps our people needed a leader who was more suited to addressing these problems. I confess that I came to these lands with the intent to challenge Varg for the right to be king, but after careful consideration, I can find no fault with his reign. Since attending this gathering, Varg has proven himself to be dedicated to the protection and preservation of our people and has fought valiantly on behalf of all, and his mate, too, has conducted herself in every way appropriate for a proper Wolfmother. Therefore, I, Alpha Raoul, of the southern pack, do hereby swear my fealty to the true Wolf King," he declared as he dropped to one knee and bowed his head in submission before Varg.

Halea could sense Varg relax across their bond, and she brimmed with joy. It wasn't that she hadn't been worried, but she had been less concerned about Raoul after getting to know him. He seemed to share many of Varg's noble qualities, and she couldn't bear the thought of the two cousins harming each other. Raoul's pledge filled her with relief as well, and instinctively she reached out and clasped Varg's hand and received a gentle squeeze from him in return, though his face remained stoic.

"Thank you, Alpha Raoul. It is my greatest hope that our packs can finally come together as brothers and sisters, united as we always should have been. I will not hold on to the bitterness of the past because I can trust in you to succeed in leading your people through these dark times. And to you, as well, I vow that I will do everything in my power to ensure the survival and prosperity of all lycans."

"As do I," added Halea.

Raoul nodded his head in gratitude, and for the first time since arriving in the west, the two cousins embraced as family.

Everyone raised their voices in welcome and support to the new southern alpha, and howls of joy echoed throughout the cavern before he finally took his seat and order was once again restored.

"Wolfmother Otsana, it is now your turn to present yourself before the council," continued Varg.

Otsana rose and nodded respectfully to the gathered.

"I, Otsana, have won the right to be the leader of the eastern pack through single combat. I can only hope to live up to my parents, who came before me, but I can promise this; I would fight to the death to protect my pack, and I will dedicate my life to the prosperity of my people. I do hereby pledge my fealty to you, Supreme Alpha Varg," she confidently stated before dropping to one knee and bowing her head in submission.

"Thank you, Wolfmother Otsana. Your parents were good and just leaders, and I know you will follow in their footsteps. I'm sure they would both be very proud."

Otsana's eyes glistened a little when she raised her head and stood once more. She wore a gentle smile as the council welcomed her and howls rang out in her honor, but when the cave grew quiet, she spoke once more.

"I also do hereby swear my fealty to the Supreme Wolfmother, for whom I would gladly lay down my life in her service. Long may she reign!" Otsana proclaimed before once again dropping to her knees and bowing her head before Halea, who sat in wide-eyed shock with her mouth slightly agape.

"Otsana, thank you," she eventually managed to choke out as the she-wolf raised her head to meet her gaze and the two smiled at each other as howls and applause echoed throughout the cavern.

* * *

Crackling sparks from the fire pits rose into the night sky where the full moon hung heavy and bright above. The air was filled with music, laughter, lively discussions, and songs that were more like chants than rhymes. Somewhere a circle of drummers was challenging each other to invent new rhythms while those who played string instruments tried to accompany their tune. At the other end of the common area, a storyteller stood before a cluster of lycans, young and old, regaling them with an epic tale of wolf heroes long since passed.

After the council meeting, everyone gathered together for the final feast of the festival, and even the wolves were sampling non-meat dishes that were usually only reserved for special occasions. Halea had run off to see to the preparations and left the other alphas to enjoy their last night together around the fire pit. Otsana offered to assist her, as she too was now a Wolfmother, but Halea insisted that she relax and enjoy the feast with the other pack leaders.

Ulrica had outdone herself by providing an impressive array of dishes, and Halea was surprised to discover that Jance had been helping her.

"Ulrica's just wonderful!" Jance declared when Halea came by to inspect their work. "She said she's been making almost all your food since you came to live with the lycans. It's so nice to meet a wolf who knows how to make human food, and it's delicious too!"

Ulrica blushed under Jance's praise.

"Cooking for Woflmother Halea has taught me a lot about what humans like to eat. I do like being creative with food, and seeing her enjoy what I make is such an honor. Plus, Daisy seems to like a lot of the same things."

Halea couldn't say she enjoyed cooking as much as those two but seeing them bond over a shared interest bought a smile to her face. "You both did an amazing job. Thank you so much for helping with the festival."

"Actually, um, would it be okay if we stayed a while longer?" asked Jance "I mean Alf and I. The northern pack can spare him for a while, and I really want to spend more time here in the west with you and Ulrica and sweet little Daisy. I miss humans and cooking for those who appreciate it, and the weather here is so much nicer than the cold north. It's not that I don't love my northern pack, and I'm sure I'll get homesick eventually, but please may we stay a little longer?"

"Of course, you and Alf are welcome to stay as long as you wish."

"Can I stay too? Batsuba will be heartbroken without me," interjected Marrok, who had overheard their conversation while passing by.

"Sure. We'd be happy to have you stay," Halea offered, though she had a feeling Batsuba would strangle her for this.

"But Elder Marrok, won't Bertolf need you?" asked Jance.

"I've made long visits with other packs in the past. He'll get along without me for a little while. And besides, when you've lived as long as I have, it's good to change scenery once in a while, it breaks up the monotony of life, and things are so interesting right now in the west."

Halea couldn't help but suspect that he was hinting about Lord Anshar as he gave her a knowing smile. With the gathering coming to a close, she would soon have to resume her sessions with the former head of her faith, and that thought filled her with dread. She wasn't sure she could face Lord Anshar alone anymore, and she was looking forward to having her grandfather's guidance.

When Halea was sure that Ulrica and Jance had everything well within hand, she decided to make one last round of the common area and ensure that everyone was enjoying themselves and that all their needs were being met. Everyone was busy celebrating, eating and drinking, singing and laughing, and enjoying the company of the other packs. She noticed flirtatious males vying for the attention of females, and she could tell which ones were in heat by how large their groups of admirers were. It reminded her that she and Varg had been so consumed with everything that happened since the festival began that they really hadn't had much quality time together and she had been longing for his attention.

Varg making the declaration that lycans would never again be allowed to eat humans had pleased her more than she could express. He hadn't told her that he intended to make such a decree, but the fact that he did it just for her filled her with an all-consuming warmth and love for her mate. Somewhere across their bond, he noticed the shift in her emotions and responded in kind.

All around her, couples were pairing off for the night. Lycans were all so bold when it came to flirtation and sex. It made her realize how much she had been missing Varg's affection.

" _I'm an alpha, damn it! Why do I need to be shy about it? He's my mate after all!_ " she thought with determination.

Now that everyone seemed fine, she would go to him, but as she passed one of the pits, Daciana approached her and handed her a full tankard of ale.

"Here, Halea. Don't think I haven't noticed how hard you've been working. You should eat, drink, and be merry too. You've earned it."

"Thank you," Halea said while accepting the drink. She had tried ale before and occasionally wine, but had never overindulged for fear of it impairing her abilities while she had been on duty as a priestess. Perhaps it would be okay to let loose for just one night, and so she and Daciana raised their drinks to each other and downed the entire contents of their tankards in several large gulps.

Halea barely had time to catch her breath before another lycan that was passing by with a pitcher noticed them and refilled both their tankards before they could even refuse.

"Yes, praise to the moon!" cried Daciana, who then let out a jubilant howl before quickly chugging her drink, and following her example, Halea did as well.

After finishing her second drink, she was starting to feel a little fuzzy. Lycans had a much higher tolerance for alcohol than humans. Most didn't seem to get intoxicated at all, no matter how much they drank. She once witnessed Varg finish the better half of a barrel of ale after a hunting celebration, and his eyes remained perfectly focused, and his speech never slurred. It had no more effect on him than water.

She thanked Daciana for the drinks, and empty tankard still in hand, set out for the alpha's fire pit.

When she got closer, she saw the alphas sitting around the fire, laughing and enjoying themselves. Even Otsana seemed the happiest she had ever seen her as Raoul and Bertolf continued to raise toasts in her honor. Varg was lounging in his usual seat looking relaxed with a gentle smile of approval as he enjoyed the company of the other alphas, though his brilliant blue eyes would occasionally roam beyond the pit; searching. Around his neck, he still wore the blue crystal pendant that she had given him for luck. He hadn't returned it yet, but she didn't mind if he wanted to wear it a while longer. It had initially been meant for him, and it looked fetching where it rested over his muscular bare chest. Halea could sense him longing for her through their bond, and her heart fluttered like a bird trapped within the cage of her ribs. He looked particularly handsome as the firelight danced across his rugged, chiseled features, and filled with liquid courage, she was ready to let him know exactly what she wanted.

Varg was quick to spot her as she approached and noticed there was something ever so slightly off about the way she was walking and when she sat beside him, he quickly detected the scent of alcohol on her breath, and he couldn't help smiling.

"What?" she asked him defensively after greeting the other alphas who were chatting while enjoying their feast of bloody, raw meat.

"Nothing," he replied with a grin that reflected the firelight off his gleaming fangs. "You just seem to be enjoying yourself is all. I like that," he practically purred into her ear, and a tingling sensation ran down her spine and pooled in her stomach. Her face, already flushed from the alcohol, got a little redder.

The other alphas ignored their flirtatious behavior. It was nothing unusual for a mated pair, though Otsana's participation in their discussion grew more reserved as the night went on.

All around them, music played, and more food and drinks were served. Varg tried to ensure that Halea was eating properly because for whatever reason she seemed to be consuming far more ale than usual. Not that he minded, but he didn't want her drinking too much alcohol on an empty stomach. His puny human mate couldn't handle strong drinks the way lycans could. It seemed to have a strange effect on her, and as the night wore on, her beautiful hazel green eyes grew a little hazy and unfocused. She would laugh at things that weren't all that humorous, and the rest of the time she would gaze at him with fixated interested, which he certainly didn't mind because he could sense and smell that his presence was arousing her.

Eventually, the other alphas decided to go and mingle elsewhere or retire as the night was getting late and they would have to set out on the long journey back to their homelands the next day.

Once they were alone, Halea, suddenly emboldened, climbed onto her mate's lap.

Varg was pleasantly surprised. Lately, he had been trying to tone down their physical displays of affection, at least for formal occasions. She was usually embarrassed by the typical flirtatious behavior of mated lycans, but it seemed the alcohol had removed her inhibitions.

"My, what's gotten into you, my mate?"

"More like what hasn't gotten into me," she teased and then giggled with sudden mortification at her own words.

Varg lovingly wrapped his arms around her and laughed at her unusually forward behavior.

"Well, if that's what you want, you only had to ask."

"You've been so busy," she pouted.

"I'm never too busy for you," he promised and was rewarded with her brilliant smile as she leaned in and kissed him, and he growled in pleasure.

When their kiss broke, she was panting for breath, and the scent of her desire hung heavy in the air, filling him with a throbbing need that she would undoubtedly notice from where she was sitting. But there was something else to her scent, subtle, but present, and it stirred the wolf within him. His beloved mate was going into heat. It occurred to him that he must have lost track of time, and the knowledge that she would soon be even more desirable filled him with a possessive need. He was suddenly very grateful that the gathering would soon be over because in the coming days he would not want any distractions getting in the way of him satisfying his mate's every desire.

"I'd do anything for you, Halea. Anything you want," he breathily promised as he allowed his hands to roam her warm and responsive body.

"Varg, I want you," she whispered in his ear, and her hot breath on his skin nearly sent the red into his eyes, when suddenly she fell slack against him, her head resting on his shoulder.

"Halea?" he asked, but she didn't move, though he could feel her breathing steadily against him. When he gently pulled her back, her eyes were closed. She was asleep.

He sighed in disappointment and then chuckled despite himself. It looked like he would be in for a long hard night. He gently scooped up his unconscious mate and carried her back to their tree-dwelling where he tucked her into bed before he went to cool off in a nearby lake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A note from your humble author**: Poor Varg is going to be sleeping like a tent pole. Don't worry, I won't leave him sexually frustrated for long. There's always next chapter. MAHAHAHA. Raoul and Otsana have sworn Fealty, and at last, the packs are united, but will Varg and Halea grant sanctuary to the priestesses? What happens next? Will it be sexy? Tune in next chapter to find out! Same bat time, same bat channel!
> 
> Also, my surgery is scheduled for next posting day, so I'm going to try and get the next chapter up a day early on Thursday (not sure what time), but that's going to be a pretty busy time for me, so if for any reason I can't get the chapter up a day early, it might go up a day or two late. I'm going to try and get the editing done a little earlier so I can avoid that, but the next few weeks are going to be crazy and I can't make any promises cause I have no way of knowing what my recovery is going to be like. Hopefully, I'll be back up and writing soon.
> 
> As always, thank you for reading. You guys are awesome!


	11. Spring Heat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A note from your humble author** : Yes, you get this a day early. I'm having surgery on Friday so better early than late.

Bright sunlight filtering in through an open window and forced Halea to open her eyes to a pounding headache. When she sat up, she disappointedly noticed that Varg was not there. His side of the bed looked like he had tried to sleep, but the disarray of the pillows and covers indicated he had a fitful night. She struggled to remember the last thing that happened before falling asleep and vaguely recalled downing a considerable amount of alcohol and doing some rather brazen flirting, after that everything was a blur. It appeared as if Varg had removed her outer robe and pulled her boots off for her because she had no memory of doing so herself. On the small bedside table sat a tall pitcher of cool water, considerately left by Varg, and a cup which she refilled multiple times before her thirst was slaked.

The pounding in her head forced her to lie back down, but she wasn't tired, and the low position of the sun indicated that it was still early.

She thought on the previous night with frustration. It was clear she hadn't got what she wanted, and there was still a lingering fire burning within her. She could sense that Varg was somewhere off attending to his duties for the morning. The other packs would be leaving in the early afternoon, but she could hardly wait that long as torturous thoughts plagued her of his wavy dark hair, and how his blue eyes glowed in the firelight. She couldn't help stretching out across their bed and breathing deep the masculine scent he left behind, and suddenly she felt achingly hot.

She removed the last of her undergarments, but it was no use, she needed release, and soon her villainous hand worked its way down between her folds where she softly stroked her sensitive flesh.

The bond came alive with sudden and intense interest, somewhere Varg was being made aware of what she was doing, and she smiled wickedly. She could have closed her end of their empathic link, but she didn't want to. If she couldn't have him physically, she at least wanted to feel his growing desire across their connection.

* * *

Not far past the vantage point, several of the warriors were standing around congratulating themselves on one last hunting expedition. Most of the packs would have long journeys home, and it would be easier to salt and prepare meat for travel before leaving, rather than stopping to hunt along the way.

Lyall offered Varg the heart of the elk he had slain with his head bowed low in submission, but Varg declined.

"It's your kill, enjoy it. I'm still mostly stuffed from last night."

"Aren't we all," chuckled Bertolf and many agreed, but everyone's laughter abruptly stopped when Varg's eyes suddenly turned blood red.

Everyone jumped back in panic, not knowing what they could have possibly said or done to set him off, but without explanation, he turned and sped off into the southwest.

"Is he okay?" Raoul asked of Lyall, who presumably knew Varg the best of anyone there. Lyall could only shrug.

"Halea's in heat," stated Hemming.

"How do you know?" asked Otsana. She had noticed Halea's behavior seemed unusually wanton the night before, to the point where she had found it uncomfortable to look at the alpha pair without a knot forming in her chest.

"Daciana's done that to me before," Hemming confessed with a slight blush creeping up his neck, and everyone burst into laughter, except for Otsana, who stared into the distance where Varg had just disappeared.

* * *

She was breathing heavily as she continued to stroke the sensitive node that sent jolts of pleasure through her, but it wasn't enough. Varg's desire roared across their bond like a ravenous beast. It was hard to sense anything else but his undeniable want - his need. And before she fully knew what was happening, a flurry of steps rushed into their tree-dwelling, and Varg launched himself on top of her. All she could feel was his hot mouth on hers and his rough hands laying claim to her body.

He seized her hand to prevent her from finishing without him. He wanted to be the one to please her, and his inner wolf had come to answer her call. His mate had desperately needed him, and his alpha nature demanded that he provide.

"Halea," he called in a voice rumbling and deep, and when he pulled back, she knew his beast had taken control, and it excited her.

"Varg, take me. Please. I need you so much," she pleaded, and he wasted no time divesting himself of his clothes before snatching her into his arms once more and running his hot mouth across her burning skin. He moved up her torso, nipping gently with his fangs and sucking the flesh leaving red marks in his wake as she dug her fingers through his hair and moaned in pleasure. As he moved up, his tongue tortured the taut bud of her left nipple as his hand snaked between her legs and found her dripping wet with need. Her scent was driving him mad. Her arousal permeated the air, mixed deliciously with the fragrance of her intoxicating heat. She was ready, so very ready, and his wolf wanted to claim her.

"Oh, please, Varg," she begged again as he touched her most sacred of places, causing her legs to tremble.

He was beyond restraint as he roughly opened her thighs and plunged inside of her with wild abandon. Her soft moan broke into a sweet cry as his girth satisfied the need within her.

His lips found her mating mark, and his fangs gently latched on as his eyes burned red.

"Don't hold back now, I need you," she cried between gasping breaths and his sharp fangs reopened the mark filling his mouth with the sweet taste of her blood, as her nails raked fire across his back. The bond affirmed that there was nothing but desire and pleasure as she writhed beneath him, repeating his name like a prayer until she came completely undone in his arms, and he snarled in satisfaction as he released his seed inside of her.

They held each other as their breathing slowly calmed and the red receded from Varg's eyes.

"Huh, my headache's gone," Halea announced and Varg laughed.

"You know you're adorable when you drink."

"Stop," she pleaded with a mortified laugh.

"Oh, yeah. You were all over me last night. In front of everyone too."

She buried her face in her hands, but he gently pulled them away to see her blushing face.

"Too bad you passed out. Are all puny humans such lightweights when it comes to drinking?"

"Ya know, I think that headache is coming back."

He smiled down on her beautiful face as she averted her eyes in embarrassment, but his smile only grew wider. He loved teasing her.

She was going to raise her hands to hide her face again when she noticed her wrists.

Her contraceptive mark was gone.

Varg felt the crushing weight of panic surge through her as terror filled her eyes and stole away their sweet moment of bliss.

"The rune!" she cried, and he noticed her wrists. "It's been days since I've worn it. I think the last time I even had it was before that demon attack. I never repainted it after you helped me wash off in the hot spring that day."

After Ethelwolf and Úlfa died, she had been too overcome with fear and grief to even think about intimacy, and every moment since had been one event after another and repainting the rune had completely slipped her mind.

"Halea, it's okay," he tried to soothe, but she jumped out of bed and began scrounging for her ink and brush to quickly replace the missing rune.

Her heart was hammering as she scribbled the mark and chanted the contraceptive spell. When she was done, she didn't feel much better.

"Varg…am I?"

He gravely nodded his head. "Yes, you're I heat. I'm sorry. It completely slipped my mind too."

She came back to bed and crawled in beside him, and he held her close and gently stroked her hair.

"It's okay, Halea. Sex doesn't make a baby every time, even when a female's in heat, and even if it did. We'll be okay. I would take care of you - of our child. There's nothing I wouldn't do for you," he promised.

She nodded and forced a deep breath. She had to remain calm and not assume the worst, but inside she knew that Varg couldn't protect her from everything, and she offered a silent prayer to Tiamet.

* * *

Later that afternoon, Varg and Halea were saying their farewells to Bertolf and the rest of the northern pack. Jance and Alf were sad to say goodbye to Bertolf, but they promised to return home before the next winter set in. Halea had mentioned to Varg that she offered extended hospitality to some of the northern wolves, but he didn't mind in the least. He knew she was fond of Jance, and he wanted her to have as many friends as possible. Breaking the news to Batsuba about Marrok was a little less easy.

"It'll be just like old times again, Batsuba," Marrok had beamed in excitement.

"Like I need another reminder of the past," she grumbled. Her lost mate had been the alpha of the northern pack long, long ago, and during those years the two packs had joined, and she had spent many years living between the west and the north.

Raoul embraced Varg as they said their farewells, and Halea smiled as the two cousins spoke as if there was never a rift between them, and it warmed her heart.

"I still fear for our people, but I will place my faith in you and your mate. If there's anything you need, call upon the southern pack. We'll be there for you."

"I will. Thank you, Raoul," Varg replied.

Halea could sense that Varg would miss his cousin, and she would miss him too. It would take time to influence the hearts and minds of the southern pack, but Halea was confident that Raoul would bring about a positive change for his people.

When Halea and Varg went to say goodbye to Otsana and the eastern pack, they found her having a discussion with Batsuba.

"Fenris will not be fit to make the journey home for at least another three or four days," explained Batsuba.

"But he'll be okay, won't he?" asked Otsana with a note of remorse in her voice. She had dealt a severe wound to the beta male, and while she would have killed him if she had to, she didn't want to take the life of any of her pack members, even if she and Fenris didn't get along.

"He'll make a full recovery, and as soon as he's fit, we'll send him home," promised Batsuba before excusing herself and allowing the alphas to have a moment alone.

Several members of the eastern pack had retrieved the bodies of Ethelwolf and Úlfa from their temporary cairns. They were carefully wrapped in shrouds and hoisted onto litters where they would be carried to the east and buried in their own sacred resting place.

"Your parents would be proud, Otsana. I know the eastern pack will be in good hands," Varg offered, and Otsana bowed her head in gratitude.

"We're proud of you too, Wolfmother," added Halea with a smile so kind Otsana's next words caught in her throat, and it took her a moment to gather her thoughts.

"Thank you, both of you, for believing in me, even when I didn't believe in myself."

"I knew you were a tough bitch," said Halea and Otsana couldn't help but smile despite the ache in her heart.

"If…if you need anything - anything at all. You can always send a runner. None of us know what lies ahead, but if you need the eastern pack, we'll come as fast as we can. You have my word."

"Thank you," said Halea.

"Or…if you just want to send a runner…for any old thing. It would be nice to stay in touch," Otsana said while nervously avoiding Halea's eyes.

"Sure, I'd like that," Halea said and extended her arms to hug the eastern Wolfmother.

When Otsana returned Halea's embrace, for a brief moment, Varg noticed a very faint scent from the she-wolf that surprised him, and as Otsana turned and led her pack into the east, he couldn't help but raise an incredulous brow.

"What is it?" Halea asked when they were finally alone.

"Your scent is just very distracting right now," he replied. He was always far more possessive of Halea when she was in heat, and for that reason, she refrained from hugging the male alphas when they were saying their goodbyes. It was not wise to get too close to other males during that time. It was too much of a temptation.

The den seemed so quiet now that the festival was over. The common area looked almost bare, and Halea felt partly relieved that it was over and somewhat sad that she would not see so many friends again for quite a while.

"There will be other festivals and gatherings," Varg promised as he sensed the suddenly gloomy turn of her emotions.

"I know. I'm happy this festival went as well as it did, but I also wish it had gone better," she confessed. The demon attack and death of Ethelwolf and Úlfa had soured the event for many, not just because of grief, but as a dark reminder that at any moment the Chaos Dimension could strike and destroy all that they loved. Coming together to celebrate life and the new year was vital to the morale of their entire people, but Chaos gave them no peace.

They had been strolling back through the den when Varg stopped to meet Halea's gaze.

"I wish we could have saved them too. Ethelwolf had shown me more warmth than my own father in the years after my mother's death, but their fate was beyond our control. We did everything that we could, but besides all the bad that happened, I think it was a successful gathering, and I think I have you to thank for that."

"Do you think I did okay – as a Wolfmother?"

"You were the perfect Wolfmother," he said as he softly stroked her cheek and his eyes expressed such love that warmth filled her from head to toe.

"You just do so much for everyone, Varg, and I really want to help you in every way I can."

"You do more than enough. You're the perfect mate. You always have been."

Joy bubbled within her at his praise, and thanks to the bond; she knew he meant every word. He always did so much to please her and knowing that she could help him and support him in the same way meant the world to her.

Eventually, they had to part. They both still had a lot of work to do with cleaning up the den after so many lively lycans had been partying there, and Halea looked forward to finally having everything back in order and restoring some semblance of normality to their lives again.

Her volunteers were also hard at work, and she began by giving them a hand with cleaning up the common area and all the fire pits, when, to her surprise, Lyall approached her.

"Wolfmother," he greeted with a polite bow of his head.

"Yes, Lyall," she acknowledged.

"I'm not too proud to admit that with this gathering, you proved me wrong. You conducted yourself in every way appropriate for a Supreme Wolfmother, and your assistance was vital to Varg. You did well."

"Thank you, Lyall," she accepted with a smile of relief, but her moment of joy was short-lived.

"I hope that he continues to receive the support that he deserves and that you don't forget that being a Wolfmother is something that must be lived up to every day and not just for special occasions."

Halea tried very hard not to frown in the face of Lyall's continued doubt and merely nodded her head, and with that, the old warrior went on his way.

With the vigor suddenly drained from her efforts, she eventually sat down near one of the fire pits and tried to still her roiling emotions before Varg came to start making threats on Lyall's life.

Batsuba had been keeping a close eye on the human Wolfmother's interaction with Lyall from where she sat at another fire pit, boiling water for more of her medicinal remedies, and she shook her head at what she had seen.

"Halea," she said as she approached the crestfallen woman.

"Batsuba," Halea greeted, but before she could stand up, Batsuba sat down beside her.

"Don't!" the elder said.

"Don't what?"

"Don't let that old fart get to you. He's honestly come a long way from how he used to be, but you have to understand, there are some people that you can't please, no matter how hard you try. Nothing you do will ever be good enough, but you can't let one sour apple upset you. You're an excellent Wolfmother, and you will continue to excel at being a proper alpha, regardless of what one cranky old wolf thinks. There are always going to be people like that. That's just how life is. You can't win them all. Just carry on as you have been and don't let it get you down."

"You really are a wise old wolf, aren't you?" Halea asked while mustering a smile from Batsuba's kind words.

"I've had ages to learn to not give a rat's ass what anyone else thinks of me. Respect is important for an alpha, but you also have to learn to rise above the naysayers. You're too sensitive sometimes, and you'll have to learn to not take everything so personally."

"I guess you're right. It's just never been easy for me. I've always wanted to be liked and accepted, ever since I was a child, but it never came easy."

"It's never entirely easy for anyone. Focus on those who do love you and don't worry about the rest."

Halea nodded her head as she absorbed Batsuba's good advice. It wouldn't be easy to not let such things bother her, but she would try.

"Now that all this festival nonsense is over, it's time for you to get back to your apprenticeship. We have a lot of medicinal plants in bloom, and there's still much for you to learn."

"I'm looking forward to it, though I may still have to wait until after I get back from Antherose with my grandfather."

Batsuba scrunched her face in disapproval of the delay, but there was no helping it, she was aware that Halea had promised to return for her kin with the coming of spring, and it was best to get it over with.

"Well, it might be amusing to have another human around. You already let the northern redhead stay, what's one more," Batsuba remarked, then stopped short as if listening to something beyond Halea's hearing.

"That falcon is coming," she explained.

"Rufus?" Halea asked. Mama Dragon had agreed to keep watch over their territory while she was in Antherose retrieving her grandfather, but she hadn't expected Rufus to arrive without her, and it gave her an unsettled feeling.

The falcon appeared above the trees, and easily spotting Halea in the common area, came down to land.

"Hello, Halea. Hello, old wolf woman," he greeted.

"You shall call me Batsuba," she growled.

"Rufus, how are you? Is everything okay?" Halea asked.

"Um, not quite. Is Varg around? I think he might need to hear this too."

"I'll call him," Batsuba offered, and instead of leaving, she let out a loud howl that carried across the den and was picked up by others further in the distance to be passed along.

The eerie wolf calls sent shivers up Rufus's spine and made him uncomfortable, but he waited patiently as the message was carried.

"What is this? A bird therian? In lycan territory?" asked Marrok who had heard the howls and came over to investigate.

Rufus eyed him uncomfortably. He had never met this lycan before and didn't know what to expect.

"Don't be afraid, little birdie, I am no big bad wolf," offered Marrok after detecting the scent of fear.

"This is Rufus, Elder Marrok. He's a friend of ours. He usually carries messages from Mama Dagon, she's a priestess of Tiamet," Halea introduced. "It's okay, Rufus."

"Uh…hi," Rufus nervously greeted, still not sure what to think of the strange lanky lycan with the young face and the old eyes.

It didn't take long for Varg to arrive, and the moment he saw Rufus, his expression turned grim.

"Hello, Varg. You don't seem pleased to see me," said Rufus.

"That's because you're usually the bad news bird. What brings you here without your priestess companion?"

Rufus's reflective eyes darted around nervously before he finally confessed.

"Bad news."

Varg's only response was to take in one very long inhalation before Halea nudged him to stop.

"Let's not discuss it here. Let's go to our treehouse where we can have some privacy," Halea requested, afraid other lycans would overhear ill tidings and spread panic.

"You're welcome to come, Batsuba," Varg offered.

"Of course," she accepted as if she didn't expect anything else.

"Me too!" declared Marrok, to which no one had any objections, though Batsuba looked like she wanted to protest. It wasn't her place to invite or uninvited people into the homes of others.

After everyone relocated to Varg and Halea's home and was seated in the recessed seating area for entertaining guests, Rufus began explaining everything that had been happening outside of the lycan territory.

"Please help them! They don't have anywhere else to go, and they're dead meat if they stay out there with those things roaming around," Rufus implored on behalf of the priestesses.

"I've encountered one of those shade mimic things too. If Otsana hadn't smelt that it was a demon, it would have killed me for sure. A priestess would have no way of knowing. We…they have never fought anything like this before."

"Chaos is changing, but why? How?" asked Batsuba.

"It's because of Lord Anshar. Whatever lives within the Chaos Dimension used his blood to make new demons. Stronger, smarter, deadlier demons. Things we've never fought before and things we can barely imagine or understand. Varg, please," pleaded Halea as she placed her hand on her mate's arm.

"Elder Batsuba, is this a matter for the council?" Varg asked, afraid that he would have to send runners to go call back all the packs that had already set out for their home territories hours earlier.

"This matter is entirely up to your discretion because it would be the western pack providing sanctuary to the Tiamet worshippers," she replied.

"I agree with Batsuba. Unless this concerns the other packs, there is no need to call another gathering," added Marrok, and for the first time, Batsuba seemed happy that he was there.

Halea was looking at Varg with those pleading eyes that broke him every time, but there was no other choice. Whether he liked it or not, their fates were undeniably linked to whether or not the Chaos Dimension could be defeated. The Tiamet worshippers were their allies because there were few others who had the power to stand against the coming of another convergence, and the lycans needed the priestesses as much as the priestesses needed the lycans. On top of that, he was still indebted to Mama Dragon. She and Halea had saved his life after his first battle with the Dragon Lord, and she also rescued Halea from the dragon's clutches after he first emerged from the Chaos. Mama Dragon had also guarded the den when they were away in the east and had agreed to come and defend it again while they would be away fetching Halea's grandfather. Lycans did not like to feel indebted to anyone outside of their pack, and it would be wrong for him to deny the priestess's plea for help. He owed her too much.

"You may go and tell them that the western pack will give them sanctuary. We may both need each other before these dark times are through," offered Varg.

"Oh, Varg, thank you," cried Halea.

"You have my gratitude as well," added Rufus. "I know I deceived you in the past, and for that, I apologize."

"Forget it, you don't owe me an apology. You helped me find and save Halea, and for that and all the other help you've given us, I'm in your debt. Let's put our disagreements in the past," Varg replied.

"You set my broken arm, so the debt is paid. Does this mean we can be friends now?"

"Maybe, try bringing good news next time."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A note from your humble author** : Okay, so she forgot her rune. Nothing unexpected could possible happen, right? MWAHAHAHA You know you've been asking for this! Anyway, Otsana seemed particularly sad to say goodbye. I wonder if anyone has figured out why yet. Lyall is still an ass, but you can't win em all. Varg and Rufus seem ready to set aside their differences, let's hope it lasts. Next chapter, Halea and Varg are off to fetch Uro. Yes, I'm sure you were wondering if I'd EVER get around to that. If you enjoy the way I write my cranky seniors, you'll enjoy the next chapter.
> 
> As always, thank you for reading, you guys are the best!
> 
> Oh, and some progress news. I finished chapter 16 this week. So I'm officially halfway done writing Wolfmother. :)


	12. Master Cleric

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A note from your humble author** : Sorry it's a little late today. Things are still kind of crazy for me right now.

"Lord Anshar? It's me, Halea? Are you in there?"

Silence.

Halea sighed as she gazed into the surface of the dark mirror and only saw her own faint reflection. She had neglected Lord Anshar during the gathering. There had been too many other things occupying her time, and she feared that she had lost what progress had been made.

"I'm sorry I was away for so long. Things have been very busy, and I just wanted to see you before I leave for Antherose."

"Antherose?" a voice softly asked.

"Yes. I won't be gone for long. I'm bringing grandfather here to live with us. I don't want him all alone at his age. It's not good for him."

It had been several days since the gathering ended. Rufus had flown away with the news that the Tiamet worshippers would be given sanctuary, and as soon Mama Dragon arrived, she and Varg would set out for Antherose.

"Alone. I see," said Lord Anshar, who remained hidden beyond the mirror.

"I was hoping we could talk. A lot has happened. There was a tear, and now there are new demons threatening the devotees of Tiamet. I know I'm not a priestess anymore, but they're still my people. I'm going to help them."

"Stop it, Halea! This is not your fight!" he growled. "The dimensions must converge. Everything must end! Don't you understand that you're only prolonging the inevitable? The world must be remade!"

"You know that's all a lie," she replied with raw anger in her voice. He couldn't possibly believe that anymore.

"You are lying to yourself if you think you can save this world. Tiamet will not help you. She doesn't care! The convergence will come and either the world will be remade, or everything will perish. You're wasting your time!"

"Priestess or no, I'm not giving up, and you can't make me! Maybe we will all die, but I'm going to fight until the bitter end. Tiamet hasn't abandoned us."

"Tiamet wants to continue the status quo, and I told you before – I will never perform another sacrifice. I would rather see the world burn than serve her will again."

"I don't think you have to kill anyone. Just tell me what's in the Chaos. You spoke to it, tell me who's in there. Tell me what it wants. Please," she begged.

He strained his mind to resurface the things he heard, the things he saw, but there was only pain, terror, invisible claws tearing into his flesh, eyes begging, pleading for him to save them, a sword coated with blood, a foul metallic stench, and dead bodies strewn at his feet. And then the voice that tormented him from the shadows.

_Remake the world._

"Stop it! Stop it! I can't!" he screamed in anguish.

A single tear rolled down Halea's cheek as she listened to his cries of pain, and she ached to hold him, to comfort him, but there was nothing she could do to alleviate his suffering.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. It's okay, I'm here. No one's hurting you."

"Please…just leave me alone," he begged.

She was reluctant to leave him like that, but it was clear she wouldn't find what she was looking for that day, and after one more moment of hesitation, she turned and left him.

* * *

"No luck?" asked Varg.

Halea only shook her head.

"You tried. At least your grandfather will be here soon to help."

"You're right. Even if he can't do much, I just need someone else to talk to who understands what's going on. Grandfather has studied the Chaos Dimension and worshiped Tiamet his whole life. He's the most learned cleric alive. I could really use that kind of help right now."

Varg was reluctant about the prospect of Halea's grandfather coming to live in the lycan territory at first, but he would endure anything for the sake of his mate. With so many other Tiamet worshippers coming to live within their lands for an indeterminate amount of time, what was one more at this point?

Though a gathering of the high council was not required, Varg had still announced the news to his entire pack that soon the Tiamet worshippers would be coming to seek refuge from the servants of the Chaos Dimension. Some were averse to the idea of so many humans coming to their lands, but most were supportive of Varg's decision. Those who feared the Chaos Dimension and worried about the fate of their people took comfort at the thought of having such powerful allies on their side. Many of their best warriors had hunted demons alongside the priestesses of Tiamet, and there were few who hadn't seen their remarkable power to purify the evil of the dark weapons. There was also the fact that many were simply becoming more used to humans than they realized. Halea's presence had changed minds and challenged their preconceived notions about humans, and though most lycans still disliked the idea of strangers infiltrating their tight-knit community, at least their aversion wasn't entirely based off prejudice.

For the past few days, everyone had been setting up a large campground north or the den. Far enough away that the Tiamet worshippers wouldn't make the lycans uncomfortable, but still close enough to be safely guarded. A rotation of lycan sentries would stand watch over their camp to ensure that no shade mimics could make a sneak attack and if any of the devotees wanted to venture away from the camp, they would have to take a wolf with them for protection.

Batsuba took it upon herself to oversee the formation of the campgrounds and ensure that Halea's people would have every comfort and precaution that they could afford them. The temporary living arrangement would be fine for the warmer seasons but would probably be inadequate with the coming of winter. Hopefully, by then, a better arrangement could be made after everyone had enough time to get used to each other.

Varg and Halea could not stay to greet the arriving refugees, they had already made arrangements to claim Halea's grandfather from Antherose before this crisis arose and could not alter their plans, but Batsuba would see to everything while they were gone.

As Varg and Halea made their way out to the northern area beyond the den to survey the progress on the refugee camp, they heard howls ring out in the distance.

"She's here," Varg explained, and Halea grew excited as she strained her eyes to see into the distance.

Sure enough, approaching from the west, and flanked with several lycan escorts, there appeared two white-robed priestesses.

"Mama Dragon! Kalee!" Halea cried as her friends approached, and she quickly embraced them.

With a nod, Varg dismissed the lycans who escorted the priestesses into their lands, and they took off back towards the den, undoubtedly, to spread the word that the first priestesses had arrived.

"We'd have been here a day or two earlier, but since we received your permission to come stay, we had to notify as many others as we could find. Rufus is still out there, spreading the word, and Samesa knows where more of our people are located than anyone else. If he can get the message to her, it's only a matter of time before the rest arrive," explained Mama Dragon.

"I'll spread the word to anyone I can find in Antherose, or if we encounter any devotees on our way there or back," promised Halea. "I'm so glad you're finally here. I was so worried about you both. Rufus told me Samesa was attacked."

Varg left Halea to have a moment alone with her friends, and Halea showed them around the campsite that would be their temporary home and explained the precautions that had been made for their safety.

"There's a hot spring for bathing over there, and a latrine in that direction. We're actually overstocked on meat at the moment thanks to all the hunting that happened during the recent festival, but lycans don't keep much non-meat food around, so you may have to forage for anything else you want to eat until the traders arrive."

"We'll manage," offered Kalee. Most priestesses were used to living off the land, and with spring in full bloom, they had plenty of time to forage.

"Once everyone's here we'll pool our funds to help pay for supplies from the traders," promised Mama Dragon.

"Don't worry. We have it more than covered," Halea promised, but when Mama Dragon tried to argue, she wouldn't hear of it. The lycans had a mountain of gold and Varg didn't mind offering a few extra nuggets that wouldn't be missed to ensure the Tiamet devotees would have everything they needed over the coming months.

* * *

Now that Mama Dragon had arrived and would be guarding the den against demons and tears in their absence, it was time for Varg and Halea to set out on their journey. Varg would accompany Halea beyond the lycan territory, at least through the wilds, but not all the way to the human city. With the Dragon contained, he felt less concerned with her safety when not within his sight, and he had no desire to ever set foot within a smelly human city again. Once was enough.

Batsuba would stand in as alpha and Lyall would guard the den while Varg was away. Everything was ready.

Halea shouldered her travel bag, and together they set out northwest through the western lycan territory and beyond. It was a two-day journey at their speed, though the return trip would undoubtedly be much slower due to bringing back an elderly human. Along their way, Varg remained vigilant for any signs of danger, but also for any traces of priestesses or clerics. By chance, they encountered two priestesses and one cleric as they neared the city and Halea gave them the message about the danger of the shade mimics and that they should head for safety among the lycans. Varg remained hidden during this exchange to ensure the humans wouldn't become nervous or distrustful of his presence. Thankfully, they all knew and recognized Halea and had no reason to not heed her warning, and so they set out for the southeast, towards the lycan lands.

When they reached the edge of the forest that lay before the main road that led towards the city, they stopped.

"Hopefully he's ready, and I'll be back soon," said Halea.

"I hope so too, but if you need more time, I'll be waiting," Varg promised, and they embraced and kissed each other goodbye.

A few hours later, Halea entered the city, and she was struck by how different it seemed since the last time she had been there. Rangers patrolled the streets that had once been much livelier, and everyone seemed to be keeping to themselves. Normally, she would see at least a few clerics or priestesses coming or going on their way to or from the castle, but all she saw was townsfolk who looked at her with distrusting eyes.

When she reached her grandfather's house, she knocked and waited until she heard footsteps creaking on aging wooden floorboards and the door flew open.

"Halea, you're here!" cried Favion.

"What, do you live here now?" Halea asked with a laugh before greeting her friend with a hug.

"Almost. Please, come inside."

"Where's grandfather?" she asked.

"He should be home from the market soon. I've been helping him clear out the house and organize his books and maps. He'll be so happy that you're finally here. He's been waiting for you."

Halea was surprised at how different her grandfather's house looked without all his clutter. Crates were stacked neatly against the walls, the books had been taken from the shelves, and even the kitchen was empty. A few spare pieces of furniture were still out, so she took a seat and Favion joined her.

"How is he?"

"He's ready; as I'm sure, you can tell. I won't say he hasn't been a bit nervous, but he's been preparing for this since you were last here. He's sold off most of his possessions except for a couple of bags he's kept packed for when it's time to go. He even bought a horse. He was hoping you wouldn't mind. He's a bit arthritic these days, and it'll be a long journey."

"No, of course not. It's sort of strange to think of my grandfather parting with so much of his old junk. Even after losing everything in Ruinac, he still managed to clutter up this place," she laughed.

"Yeah, let's hope that horse has a strong back, cause those two bags aren't light."

"Favion…is there anyone left?"

"A few clerics are still at the castle, but it's getting pretty inhospitable for Tiamet worshippers right now. For ages, everyone just took us for granted, but now that things are getting out of hand, everyone's looking for someone to blame. The rangers are pissed that they've been asked to help fight demons, and despite Senior Priestess Gwen's best efforts, word that Lord Anshar's gone missing has spread, and people are starting to get scared about what will happen with the next convergence. There have always been those who distrusted Lord Anshar for being a therian, and now they're gloating as if that's the single cause of all this trouble. They don't have a clue but explaining what's really going on isn't going to make anything any better, and few would understand it anyway. We're kind of on our own."

"No. We're not alone. We have allies. The lycans will help us." Halea went on to share all the news of the new dangers, her work with Lord Anshar, and the offer of sanctuary.

"Our people are already gathering in the lycan territory? I scarcely know what to think, but for the first time in ages, I almost feel good again," but despite his words, his expression darkened. "What about Kalee? Is she there?"

"Yes, she's with Mama Dragon."

"Would you mind if I made the trip with you? I was going to head north, past Westvear, but if we're regrouping, I want to be where our people are. There's also something I have to tell Kalee."

"We'd love to have you with us. It'll be safer with the lycans. What about the clerics at the castle, can they come too?"

Favion knew the truth about Halea's mother, but Uro had sworn him to secrecy. Edmond would never leave Dean behind, and he had been tasked with looking after Theia too, and Codeon would not want to leave Edmond.

"It's just Codeon and Edmond. I'm not sure they'll want to leave, but at the very least, I'd like to let them know what's going on in case they decide to come along later. I'll run up there and give them the news, pack a travel bag, and meet you back here in a few hours."

"We'll wait for you," she promised, and with that, he jumped up and made for the door, but just as he was leaving, Uro arrived.

"Favion, where are you going?" Uro asked as Favion wedged past him through the door.

"Halea's here, she'll tell you everything. I'll be back later!" he called over his shoulder before disappearing out into the street.

Uro closed the door after him and turned to find that Halea had got up to greet him.

"Grandfather," she cried as she wrapped her arms around him, and he returned her embrace.

"Halea, I'm so happy you're finally here," he exclaimed before cautiously looking all around. "I don't see that shifter with you."

"Lycan, grandfather. Please don't use that term in front of Varg. It's not very nice. As for him, he's waiting for us at the forest's edge, and he'll meet us on our way back. Favion told me about what's been happening in Antherose. He's coming with us. Please, sit down, and I'll tell you everything."

* * *

The sun had set before Favion returned, alone, with a light travel bag and news that Codeon and Edmond would not be joining them right away but that they may come along at some point later. Halea and her grandfather had spent that entire time catching up and preparing for the journey.

"I still have your stipend, are you sure you don't want me to fetch it for you?" he asked.

"No, grandfather, I don't have any need for money with the lycans. Can't it be donated?"

"I have written final instructions for my estate; I'll add directions that your funds are to be passed on to the Weldison asylum. There are many who suffer from Chaos madness these days."

It pained Uro to think of leaving Theia behind, but there was no hope for the poor woman, and if Halea knew that she lived, she would be devastated. The most he could do was see that she lived out the rest of her life with the best of care and pray that Halea never found out.

"The horse is saddled, packed, and ready," said Favion as he came back inside. "That poor beast."

"Oh, leave off, my bags aren't that heavy," grumbled Uro as he rose from his armchair with a slight protest from his aching joints. He grabbed his staff and paused to take one last look around the old place. It was bittersweet. It was the home Lord Anshar gave to him and Halea when they both lost everything after the destruction of Ruinac. He'd especially miss his comfy old armchair. He imagined spending the rest of his days sitting on rocks and logs and gnawing on twigs and berries to survive, but anything was better than being around the rangers, even living with a bunch of wild animals.

"It'll be okay, grandfather," Halea promised.

"Of course, it will, my child. And if not, well, I'll be dead soon anyway."

* * *

Halea had to run ahead as they approached the forest.

"Varg?" she called.

"I'm here," he replied, springing up suddenly and startling her.

"Don't do that!" she shouted and swatted at him, but he caged her in his arms in relief that she was back, and she quickly calmed.

"Sorry," he laughed. "Where's your grandfather?"

"He's coming. Favion is coming too. He'll be traveling with us. Grandfather's on a horse," she explained.

"I always wanted to try horse," Varg mused.

"Yes, about that. You can't go spooking that poor beast. Grandfather's too old to get thrown from a horse. You might have to hang downwind and give us some space on the way back."

Only specially reared horses could tolerate the apex predator presence of a therian. Lord Anshar had a horse-drawn carriage, but those horses had been conditioned to his scent from their birth. Most other animals were instinctually afraid if they picked up his scent and avoided him.

Varg growled low in frustration but didn't argue; it was partly a relief. He had no idea of what to discuss with an elderly human, especially one that clearly didn't like him, and it probably would have been an awkward journey anyway.

With the waning of the recent full moon, there was enough light for the party to travel a few more hours into the night before they stopped to set up a camp. The two clerics were relatively silent, either from being out way past their regular sleeping hours or from being uncomfortable with the dark and the knowledge that a wolf was silently lurking somewhere beyond their vision.

It took about four days to make the journey back with Favion on foot, and the horse being walked at a gentle pace to suit Uro's aging body. Favion spoke to Halea about all the other remotely interesting news since she had left human civilization and Halea answered all his questions about what life was like living among the lycans. Her grandfather mostly listened in silence, and occasionally interjected a scoffing sound of disbelief.

Halea sounded like she was doing very well for herself among the shifters, but Uro suspected she was exaggerating the level of the wolves' civilization to not worry him. She seemed to describe a well-organized yet primitive society that was attuned with nature, and he hoped she wasn't just trying to convince herself that her situation was better than it really was. Out beyond the trees, that brute was lurking around, and he could occasionally feel his horse jitter beneath him if the wind made an abrupt change of direction. He didn't know what to expect when they arrived, but he was preparing himself for the worst.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A note from your humble author** : Poor Lord Anshar. Uro's still a cranky old fart and next chapter he finally meets all the wolves. Wonder how that's going to go? Those poor wolves. MWAHAHAHA! Also, next chapter, Samesa might have another visit from her mysterious stranger.
> 
> As for me; my surgery went fine. I haven't done much writing these past two weeks, but I expected as much. The pain meds they had me on gave me WAY too much brain fog to be productive, but the good news is, I'm done with those now, so it's back to work.
> 
> Thank you, guys, for reading. I hope you're still enjoying the story, if so, please leave a comment to let me know what you think. I love hearing from you guys!


	13. Primitive

Samesa had already warned several priestesses to beware the shade mimics, but it felt so pointless. How could they even defend themselves from an enemy that could be disguised as anyone they know?

As she came down from the coastal hills, she thought she heard a falcon in the air, but disappointingly, she didn't see anything. She hadn't heard from Mama Dragon in a while, and she struggled to bite back the fear that somewhere, out there, she could be losing her friends.

"Hey," a man's voice called, and she nearly jumped out of her skin, but when she spun around, she was surprised to find that it was Sufur.

"You again?"

"Aw, is that all the greeting I get?" he asked with a smirk.

"Where did you come from?"

"I was tracking you. It took me a while to find you. I've got a message from a priestess who said her name was Mama Dragon."

"Mama Dragon?" she asked in confusion. Something didn't add up. He may have tracked her, but that didn't explain his sudden appearance; unless she was really starting to lose her edge, and why would Mama Dragon send a ranger with a message instead of Rufus?

"Prove it," she demanded while eying him with suspicion.

"Huh?"

"Prove you're really here with a message from Mama Dragon and not one of those _things_."

"The last _thing_ you encountered, a shade mimic as you called it, disguised itself as your deceased mentor cleric. This was an event that happened after your mind was breached, am I correct?"

Samesa visibly relaxed and let out a sigh.

"I'm sorry, Sufur. It's just – I don't know who to trust right now. I think I'm getting really paranoid over every little thing and this whole situation is starting to get to me."

"It's okay, Samesa. You know, you're quite beautiful when you smile, and I hate to see you so worried…"

"All right, Mister Smooth. Can I have that message now?"

Sufur only laughed as she deflected his flirtations.

"Fine. Fine. Can't blame a guy for trying. When I found Mama Dragon, I gave her your message to beware the shade mimics. I also mentioned that the mimic demon stunk and that's when she had an idea. She said that every priestess and cleric should gather in the lycan territory. I guess you have an ally among the wolves?"

"Halea?" Samesa cried. "Of course! The lycans can smell any demon, and I guess they're kind of on our side. Hey, wait a minute. How can you be sure it was Mama Dragon you were really talking to and not another mimic?"

"Well, she didn't try to kill me, and she was with another priestess with bright red hair, and they weren't trying to kill each other. I'd say the lack of murderous intent was a pretty good sign."

"Fine. Fair enough, though I don't see why she'd send you instead of her falcon."

"She had to send him into the lycan lands to ask for sanctuary before every Tiamet worshipper in a hundred miles started barging in on the wolves. I told her I could find you and let you know what the new plan is. Supposedly, you know where more priestesses are hidden than anyone else."

"That's true," she admitted.

"You know, if you're worried about those things, I'd be happy to come with you – for protection."

Suspecting his offer wasn't entirely altruistic, she decided to remind him of the obvious.

"I happen to be a highly trained super-powered priestess of Tiamet. I could snap you like a twig, and don't forget it. If you really want to help me, we should split up to spread this message. We'd cover more ground and find more of my people that way."

Sufur looked disappointed at her rebuke but was surprisingly undaunted.

"You couldn't make use of a fire-caster? I could teach you some elemental magic," he offered.

She paused as temptation crept into her eyes, but eventually shook her head.

"Maybe I'll let you show me a thing or two once we're done spreading this message."

"In that case, until we meet again," he said with a smile and a hopeful gleam in his dark reflective eyes.

* * *

Eerie howls rang out through the trees the moment they passed into the land of the wolves, and Uro had to suppress the shudder that rolled up his spine.

"Between the shade mimics and that attack on the den, our warriors have been on high-alert. Plus they're expecting us. I can sense that Varg has gone off to greet them and probably warn them not to approach and spook your horse," Halea explained, though Uro didn't know what she meant when she said she could sense what her shifter husband was doing.

When they passed through the tall oak trees, they entered a windswept plane, in the distance a just of land rose above the bank of a river, and beyond that the looming mountains. Uro supposed the base of these mountains was the hub of their primitive civilization. The den, as Halea called it. The old cleric tried not to cringe at the idea of living in some smelly animal hole, but it was too late now.

Uro's one comfort was in knowing that the devotees would be gathered nearby, and he looked forward to having communion with the fellow members of his faith. This wolf's den would probably be a far cry from the splendor that had been the Citadel of the Sun or the stately abode that was Lord Anshar's castle.

"This is as far as we should go with the horse," Halea mentioned while offered her grandfather a hand as he stiffly climbed down from his steed.

Favion passed Uro his staff and stared off towards the mountains.

"Well, it looks the same as the last time I was here," Favion commented. He had been one of the clerics appointed to the mission of defending the lycan territories back when Halea had still been a priestess. The wolves hadn't been particularly friendly, but neither had they been hostile, and that was good enough for him. In the distance, he could make out the elaborately carved caves and statues along the mountainside, the trees adorned with wooden structures, and smoke rising from outdoor fires.

"I can't see a blasted thing," Uro grumbled as he took off his glasses and wiped them with the hem of his robe before returning them to his face.

"You will when we get close," Halea promised.

Halea and Favion began removing Uro's bags from the horse, Favion taking one and Halea the other.

"Is this full of rocks?" Halea asked. Even with her superior strength, she could tell the bag was inordinately heavy.

"See, I told ya," Favion said with a grin, which was quickly wiped from his face after Uro clunked him on the knee with his staff.

"Halea, please, don't let him eat my horse," Uro implored after turning his attention back to his granddaughter who had set down his bag and was removing the tack from the animal.

"I knew you would ask," she laughed while giving the horse a gentle pat in reward for its service. "I told Varg to leave it be last night after you two went to sleep. Much to his disappointment. He won't let anyone else eat it either, providing it doesn't hang around here for too long." She doubted that would be the case as she gave the horse's rump a slap and sent it galloping back towards the west. Varg would be waiting to spook the beast and send it running the rest of the way to human civilization. She hated to think of scaring the poor creature, but it really would be at risk of being eaten if it tried to hang around within the lycan lands, and so it was for its own good.

"He's been like a ghost this whole trip. Are we going to see him?" asked Favion, who hadn't seen Varg since the incident at the castle.

"He'll catch up before we reach the den," Halea promised while shouldering her grandfather's bag and leading them forward.

As they neared, Uro was finally able to make out signs of habitation and what he saw stunned him to silence. It wasn't a city or a town. It was like nothing he had ever seen before, a strange village with homes in trees and ornate caves that looked manmade rather than naturally occurring. More howls pierced the air, and before he could make out what caused the commotion, a deep voice spoke from behind him.

"It's good to be home. That was the slowest trip of my life," Varg grumbled to Halea who offered him an apologetic grin.

Favion nearly jumped out of his skin, he hadn't even heard the lycan approach.

"Oh, hey. Hi, it's you," the younger cleric mumbled while offering his hand to shake, but Varg only looked at it in confusion before Favion awkwardly tucked it into his robe pocket.

Varg merely offered him a curt nod of greeting before turning his attention to Halea's grandfather.

"This will be your home now, Uro. My people were told of your coming. Don't expect a big welcome."

"I was not," interjected the old cleric.

"Speaking of big welcomes, Favion, do you see that smoke way out past the north end of the den?" Halea asked, and Favion nodded. "Mama Dragon is there. Kalee too. Probably many of our people have gathered in the time that we were gone. Not that I don't want to invite you to the den…"

"I get it. You don't have to worry about me. I'll meet up with the rest of our people and talk to you later. Take care, Master Uro. Good luck!"

Favion handed Halea the bag he was carrying, and though she easily hoisted it onto her shoulder as if it weighed nothing at all, Varg insisted that she hand them over.

Uro gave Favion a farewell pat on the back. The senior cleric almost wishing he could join him. It felt like ages since he had been in the company of more than a handful of devotees, but it was best for him to get the worst of it over with now, and he was ready.

When they arrived, Halea noticed that the den did seem unusually empty upon their return, but they were not wholly without welcome. Many of the warriors who had grown accustomed to the presence of the Tiamet worshippers were there, as well those who were comfortable with Halea's presence, and now the human woman Jance. Some came to greet them just out of curiosity as most lycans had never seen an elderly human before and were curious to know what a mortal looked like towards the end of its short life.

The aged human was unlike anything they had ever seen. He seemed frail, with thin, white hair, thick spectacles that magnified the size of his eyes to an absurd degree, and skin that hung in loose folds. He reeked of anxiety and decay, and it seemed hard to believe that such a creature could be of any relation to Halea.

Many greeted Varg and Halea with warm embraces and bright smiles of relief to have their Supreme Alphas home, though no one approached the old cleric who stood back and nervously watched the accumulating crowd of shifters.

One lycan took Uro's two bags from Varg and carried them away, despite Uro's protest.

"It's okay, grandfather. He's just taking them to your cave."

"Cave?" he cried in shock, but Halea ignored his outburst as Varg drew her attention.

Having been gone for much longer than he would have liked, Varg gave Halea a quick kiss before letting Lyall and the rest of his warriors drag him off for reports on hunts, the arrival of the Tiamet worshippers, and their surveillance efforts against the demons.

Halea didn't mind, she would have no shortage of duties to catch up on herself once her grandfather was settled, and she looked forward to getting back to her apprenticeship with Batsuba. To her delight, the old healer also appeared to welcome them home, with Marrok in tow.

"Fenris made a full recovery and set out for the eastern territory a few days ago," reported Batsuba after hugs and greetings were exchanged.

"I'm glad to hear it. I hope Fenris won't be too resentful of Otsana," Halea replied.

"I know he had his hopes up and was disappointed by his loss, at first, but he knows to respect a true alpha. Otsana still must prove herself as a leader, but she's very much like both her parents. She'll earn her respect in no time."

Uro silently watched the conversation between his granddaughter and the young white-haired shifter with curiosity as they seemed to be discussing a political matter that he couldn't really understand.

"Well, what have you brought us this time?" the old healer asked.

"Batsuba, this is my grandfather, Uro, Master Cleric of Tiamet," Halea introduced.

Unlike the others, Batsuba had seen elderly humans before, though not this close up and it had been many years ago.

"So, you're Halea's kin. Welcome. Halea has been my apprentice since the fall, and I take it, she learned the ancient language from you."

At first, Uro was a little stunned to suddenly be addressed by the wolf-woman, but she appeared harmless enough, and he quickly found his tongue.

"Why, yes, young lady. I personally taught her the language of the gods. Halea has always been an excellent pupil. She gets her intelligence from my side of the family."

Batsuba's eyes peeled open, and she sputtered in indignation at the old cleric's words.

"Young? You impudent pup, I have herbs older than you are!"

Marrok doubled over, laughing so hard he had to wipe tears from his eyes.

"Now, now, Batsuba, grandfather hasn't met many immortals that aren't priestesses or Lord Anshar," Halea quickly offered in apology, but Batsuba only crossed her arms over her chest with a harrumph and stomped off to her tree-dwelling to stew over her perceived slight.

"Well, that was a terrible first impression," Halea bemoaned.

"It was marvelous," Marrok argued while still gasping for air and cackling in amusement. Once he was more composed, he introduced himself. "I'm Marrok. Batsuba and I are elders, though we may not quite look it to a mortal. I think I'm going to very much enjoy having so many humans around. Things are far more interesting here in the west."

"The west?" asked Uro.

"I'll explain the different packs to you later, grandfather, for now, I'm sure you're tired, so let's get you settled," Halea offered.

Uro was more than happy to move away from the scrutinizing eyes of so many wolf shifters who seemed to regard him as some sort of rare curiosity. Thankfully, he had not been met with hostility, which had been the best he could hope for, though he would have been more than happy to teach those wolves a lesson if they dared to try anything.

Marrok shooed away the remaining onlookers who quickly went back to their business, leaving Halea alone with her grandfather.

Uro looked around as Halea led him up a trail that wound up the side of the mountain. Below he could see lycans clustered around strange outdoor recessed fires, many dwellings built into trees and connected by bridges, and remarkable stone-carved statues of lycans and wolf-headed gods that exhibited an impressive amount of craftsmanship. The path was a little steep for his liking, but he compensated by leaning heavily on his rune-carved staff. They stopped before a large iron door, above was a small window, and when opened, it revealed the foreboding black maw of a cave.

"Sorry, lycans can see in the dark, so they forget to light lamps sometimes," she apologized while slipping inside. Uro waited as a soft glow appeared from within the cave and Halea returned to usher him into his new home.

He was utterly speechless at what he found. The cave was quite large, with a high ceiling covered in glittering stalactites and oil lamps that were mounted along the rock walls where they emitted a warm glow. The air was refreshingly cool, but not cold, and there was an unlit wood-burning stove with a pipe that led up along the wall and fed out through the front of the cave. A stone bath was carved into the back wall of the cave where water trickled in from a spring and trickled back out again into some unknown crevice. The space was sparsely but comfortably furnished. There was a cozy-looking bed piled high with furs and cushions, a chest of drawers, an empty wooden shelf, and most surprisingly a desk and chair.

"I figured you wouldn't come empty-handed, so I asked Varg to make this bookshelf for you. He was doing a lot of woodwork this winter anyway, so a few more pieces weren't a big deal. He made the desk too, though I had to explain it to him. Some lycans use tables, but they usually prefer to do their work outdoors while hanging around with friends and family at the fire pits, or while sitting on the ground, though they do use chairs on occasion."

Uro admired the desk; the wood still smelled fresh and was polished to perfection. It had a single drawer and a built-on top-shelf for extra storage. The chair was constructed well enough, with a cushion added to the seat for extra comfort, though he couldn't help but longingly think of the comfy armchair that he had left behind. But, all things considered, his accommodations were far more hospitable than he could have ever imagined, and he realized he owed his granddaughter many thanks and an apology.

"To be honest, this is a far nicer abode than I was expecting."

Halea looked at him quizzically, and he went on.

"I imagined something a little more…primitive."

"Ah! Well, to be fair, I made the same mistake when I first met Varg, and then he showed me the den through your old telescope…"

"Is that why you ran off with that rusty old thing?"

Halea nervously laughed, but she could see that her grandfather wasn't actually angry. Too much time had passed for it to matter anymore.

"Thank you, Halea, for bringing me here to share the last of my days with you. I don't wish to burden you, but I have been ever so lonely these past few years, and I can't begin to express how happy I am that you've welcomed me into your new life. These wolves are strange, but, I think I'll manage as long as you're near."

Halea hugged her grandfather as her heart flooded with warmth. They hadn't always understood each other, but she was glad to have his acceptance and that there would no longer be any secrets between them.

"I suppose I must give my thanks to your husband as well."

"Mate," she corrected with a smile.

"Oh, fine. Whatever," Uro conceded with a sigh. "He seems to be treating you well, as far as I can see. If this is your life, it doesn't look so bad."

"You'll like him…eventually. Varg is a good man. Lord Anshar isn't the only decent therian to ever exist."

Uro's lips pursed into a frown at the mention of his Lord, and he knew it was time to ask.

"How is he, Halea?"

"He has good days and bad days. He saw something within the Chaos, I'm sure of it, but it's so hard to keep him grounded. I know Tiamet entrusted him to me, but I'm also afraid that my presence is bringing out the worst in him. I could really use your help right now. I don't know where else to turn."

Uro wrapped his arm around Halea's shoulders and nodded his head at the news.

"Then, I will do everything in my power to help you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A note from your humble author** : Uro still has some prejudiced preconceived notions to get over, but it could have gone worse. Can Sufur and Samesa spread the word in time to save the priestesses? It's all going down in the west! Next chapter, many arrivals, and some more Lord Anshar. You're welcome. But danger is just around the corner, so hold onto your butts!
> 
> As always, thank you so, so much for reading the Convergence series. I really hope you're still enjoying it. I've written to halfway through Chapter 18 so book 3 is more than half-done and it's going well. I'm really trying to finish the series before the end of the year, but we'll see how that goes. Please leave comments/feedback to let me know what you think. I hardly ever hear from of my readers anymore, though the stats tell me you're still there. I love hearing from you guys, even if it's just to say hello. :)


	14. Token of Love

Mama Dragon stared into the west, out in the distance, she could see a few moving specks of red and white, and she knew more clerics and priestesses were about to join them. The lycans let out howls whenever Tiamet devotees crossed the borders into their lands, and she was starting to get used to that particular call, and it filled her with hope. It felt like ages since their people had last all been together, and though the circumstances weren't ideal, there was comfort in numbers.

Lycan sentries guarded their refugee camp day and night, and no priestess or cleric went out to hunt or forage without a wolf accompanying them. Their hosts had ensured their safety and comfort, and in return, at the slightest detection of demon activity, the Tiamet worshippers would set out with their new allies to eliminate any threats.

Favion had arrived the day before, and it was good to see the young cleric again and to learn that Master Uro was now safely among the wolves. She was expecting a visit from the senior cleric in the evening and was looking forward to discussing the pressing issue of these new demons with him.

Kalee approached and stood beside Mama Dragon.

"Eighteen priestesses and forty-two clerics in just this past week, that's pretty good. I wish Samesa were here, though."

"She'll come as soon as she finishes spreading the message," Mama Dragon assured. "She knows where more of our people are than anyone, and it will take time for her and Rufus to get the word out. Providing the worst hasn't happened, we should be a few hundred strong within a few more weeks."

"So few," Kalee lamented. Once there had been hundreds of priestesses and thousands of clerics, but after the devastation of the convergence that happened nine years ago, and Lord Anshar turning on them, their numbers had dwindled with little to no hope for recruitment. It seemed as if their time was at an end.

"Favion's been looking for you."

"I don't want to see him. I don't want to hear anything he has to say," Kalee bitterly replied.

"It's not what you think. He has something important to tell you. You deserve to know the truth."

"Fine," she relented with a sigh before heading back towards the camp. She had been dodging the young cleric since he arrived the day before, but if they were going to be living in the same place, she couldn't avoid him forever. It was best to get it over with.

She found Favion sitting outside with a cluster of other clerics on roughly constructed wooden benches that surrounded a campfire. It didn't take long for him to notice her and get up to approach her.

"Kalee, you're here. Mama Dragon said you've been out on scouting missions since I arrived," he exclaimed while extending his arms for an embrace from which she shied away.

"Please, Favion, if there's something you need to tell me…"

"Right! Look, not here. Can we take a walk?"

Kalee nodded her head, and the two headed for the small grove at the edge of their campsite.

"Do you want me to call for an escort?" asked Aatu as he noticed them leave.

"We're not going further than those trees," Kalee promised. It was as far as they could go before they were out of earshot of calling for help if a shade mimic attacked. The lycan nodded in agreement, but there was still concern in his eyes as he watched them walk away from the camp.

Once they reached the grove, Favion met her gaze with a serious expression, and Kalee waited as he seemed to struggle to express himself.

"I'm sorry to have to tell you this - Joanie's gone," he eventually blurted.

Kalee just stared at him silently for a moment, then one by one the muscles in her face began to twitch, her lips trembled, and a gut-wrenching sob tore from her throat as she buried her face in her hands.

Favion wrapped his arms around her, and this time she did not shy away, leaning into his comforting embrace as her tears quickly soaked into his robe.

"I'm alone. I'm alone," she wailed while gasping for breath between sobs.

He held her close and rubbed her back as she poured out her grief.

"No. You still have me," he promised.

"That's not true!" she shouted while breaking free from his arms. "You're going to die! Everyone grows old and dies, and I get left behind. Don't you understand that we can never be together? Do you think I want to watch you wither before my eyes, like my sister, like Joanie? I can't do it anymore! I can't watch any more people I love fade away!"

"Kalee…" he tried to plea as she crushed his heart beneath every word that fell like a hammer.

"Just leave me alone," she tearfully begged before turning and running back towards the camp.

* * *

The next few weeks became somewhat of a routine for Halea. In the morning, she would do field research with Batsuba, who taught her the medicinal properties of every plant they found. There were so many herbs and roots that could do so many things that she had to start taking notes and drawing pictures of the different plants just to keep all the information straight. Despite the challenge, she loved being outdoors with the old healer, and even Marrok would occasionally tag along, though he had no interest in medicine.

Every afternoon her grandfather would come down the winding path from his cave and join her for tea and lunch at the fire pit. Most lycans still avoided him and gave him space as he hobbled along with his staff while they obtrusively stared on. Thankfully, not all lycans were shy, one by one some of Halea's closest friends among the wolves began to introduce themselves to her grandfather and ask him all sorts of questions, such as: "Does your face hurt from all those cracks?" or "Have you always looked this way?" and "Will you be dead soon?" His face would turn beet-red at such interactions, and once, he nearly choked on his tea. It took all his self-control not to start swinging his staff.

Much to his relief, the curiosity eventually died down, and overall, he found life among the lycans to be quite peaceful. He was shocked to discover that outside of his fellow Tiamet worshippers, another human woman named Jance was living among the wolves, and like his granddaughter, she had a lycan for a mate.

Jance was thrilled with the presence of another human and took it upon herself to lavish him with pastries and sweets for his afternoon tea breaks, of which he was most delighted. The fact that a whole camp of priestesses and clerics was not far from the den filled her with glee, and Alf could barely keep her from pestering the Tiamet worshippers, though they didn't seem to mind all the baked goods she kept making for them.

Varg still didn't know quite what to discuss with the old man, who continued to regard him with a disapproving and insolent air that came perilously close to challenging his alpha will. If not for Halea's gentle coaxing, he probably would have snapped and put the old man in his place, but he had to think of his mate's happiness, and so despite the subtle slights, he kept the peace.

Uro had expressed his thanks to Varg for being allowed to stay with the lycans, and for his comfortable accommodations, though in a somewhat terse manner, but he still wasn't quite sure how he felt about Halea's choice of a mate. The wolf shifter seemed devoted to his granddaughter, but to everyone else, he appeared stern and commanding. Perhaps that was the requirement of his leadership, but Uro wasn't used to anyone, especially anyone so young, bossing him around. No matter where he went or with who he lived, he was still a Master Cleric of Tiamet, and he wasn't about to let some brutish wolf intimidate him.

After the afternoon meal, Halea would attend to her other alpha duties and accompany her grandfather out to the devotee's camp where they would rally around maps and plan demon hunts. Every day more priestesses and clerics arrived, but despite their growing numbers, things were taking a turn for the worse.

There hadn't been any new attacks from shade mimics since the Tiamet worshippers took refuge among the wolves, but almost as if in retaliation, tears were beginning to appear, and as far as they could tell, only within the western lands.

"This is coordinated," Mama Dragon observed.

"They've always been random before," Alec added. The young cleric had only recently arrived and was often clutching his bow in anxiety. Between the erratic behavior of Chaos and the unnerving presence of the wolf shifters, his nerves were frayed.

"If Chaos can't reach us with deception, then its next option will be to overwhelm us with sheer force. We cannot let these tears get out of hand," cautioned Uro, who hadn't stopped tracking tear and demon activity since arriving in the lycan lands. He didn't like the look of the data he had been collecting, but it was still too soon to come to any firm conclusions.

Halea felt a sinking sense of dread with every new tear and demon sighting. Inside, she knew that time was running out.

In the evenings, Halea waited patiently at the base of the tree where the dark mirror was safely stored while her grandfather would sit within attempting to speak to Lord Anshar. His first few attempts at making contact with the Dragon Lord had been unsuccessful, but eventually, he responded.

"Uro? Is that you?" came Lord Anshar's voice, though the mirror remained dark.

"Yes, Lord Anshar. I am here now."

"Why are you here? Where is Halea? Why doesn't she come anymore?"

"I am here to help you, my Lord," he replied while ignoring his inquiry of Halea's whereabouts. "I understand that something contacted you within the Chaos. Who?"

"I don't know."

"Please," Uro begged.

"A voice…it told me the convergence must happen, that we are preventing the way things should be, that the world can be remade."

"Lord Anshar, you must know that you have been deceived."

"By who? The voice or Tiamet? I don't trust either. Nothing is right. None of this has ever been right! What if everything we know about our world is wrong? What if Tiamet really is trying to prevent something that should happen?"

"And what do you think this voice wants? What is there to gain by our suffering and destruction?" questioned Uro.

"Where is Halea?"

"It must want something, Lord Anshar."

A long pause of silence followed, and just when Uro was about to give up, the Dragon Lord's voice returned.

"I saw into its eyes. When the voice was in my head, I pushed back, and then I saw them."

"Whose eyes?" asked Uro.

"Where is Halea?"

"Lord Anshar…"

"Where is she? I want to see her!" he growled, and then the conversation promptly spiraled out of control, with Lord Anshar becoming disjointed and confrontational, and eventually falling into incoherent ramblings of things that haunted him in the dark that weren't there and an evil voice that tormented him.

Night after night, Uro would question the former head of his faith. Some nights Lord Anshar would respond, though no amount of interrogating could bring forth any new information, and other nights, he refused to speak at all. Real memories and things that only happened in his mind were confused within his thoughts, but one thing was always consistent, if he spoke at all, he would always ask for Halea.

When Halea's grandfather would slowly descend the spiral stairs of Lord Anshar's prison, he always looked remorseful. Every night she asked if there had been any breakthroughs, but he would only regretfully shake his head.

* * *

One morning, Halea sat up in bed and wiped the sleep from her eyes. Varg had already risen and begun his duties for the day. At first, she felt idle in comparison, especially when Varg managed most of their domestic responsibilities. He was surprisingly tidy, tidier than her, but when she began to feel guilty, he assured her that he just had a little more time on his hands. Most lycans only slept a few hours a night, if they felt like sleeping at all. The day was for hunting and work, the night for relaxation, hobbies, or pleasure.

She pulled off her thin summer nightdress and opened the chest of drawers and pulled out a clean green robe when a glint of white caught her eye. She moved aside a few things and found her old priestess robe neatly folded at the bottom of the drawer and lovingly stroked the red hem and sash. Though she wasn't really a priestess anymore; the Goddess still called to her. The desire to stare into the west where the Citadel of the Sun once stood among the ocean waves was always present, and her hand still itched to grasp her spear as if it were a missing part of her. Though she hadn't used it since her battle with Lord Anshar; her old weapon remained propped in the corner, and the threat of Chaos still consumed her thoughts.

As she finished lacing her boots, howls of danger pierced the air. Without a second thought, she snatched her spear from its resting place and raced down the stairs and out towards the den.

"Halea!" Varg called as she neared the common area which had erupted into lycans running for cover. "The sentries have found a massive tear on the northwestern edge of the hunting grounds."

"I'm going," she replied, but as she turned to take off, he grabbed her arm to stop her.

"Halea, the refugee camp is closer, let them handle it. It's their job," he reminded with a look of reproach.

"It's my job too. Priestess or not, this will always be my fight. Please, Varg. I can't escape it. I can't," she implored with eyes that weakened him with their conviction.

Even without her spear and white robe, no matter how he had tried to convince her that theirs' was no longer her fight, he could never truly change who she really was. For as long as he had known her, she had been one of them, and he was forced to concede that she always would be. Her fate was undeniably bound to the service of the Dragon Goddess, just as much as she was bound to him through their bond. She was as much a part of her people as he was a part of his, and though it pained him to share her, to risk her life by associating it with those who might be doomed, he could no longer deny her the calling to which she had been born. Whatever the outcome, he would love her and stand by her, just as she had always stood by him.

He pulled her close and wrapped her in his arms.

"Then I fight with you."

"I'd like that," she replied while looking up at him, her eyes glistening with relief. He placed one loving kiss to her soft lips before they ran out to face the danger together.

When they reached the refugee's camp, they found that Mama Dragon and Kalee had already set out with Favion, Alec, and a few other clerics, and several lycan guides. Varg picked up their scent trail, and Halea followed him until they caught up with the clerics who were being escorted by Aatu. The faster priestesses had gone on ahead to seal the tear, and the clerics would help eliminate any demon's that attempted to escape.

Before Varg and Halea could leave the clerics to their duty, a raucous horde of demons appeared through the trees and fell upon the clerics in overwhelming numbers.

Varg drew his sword as wraiths surrounded them, and soon the clash of steel and stench of black blood filled the air. The clerics used their rune-carved weapons and sutras of purification to fight back the demons as Halea's charged spear glowed like a bolt of lightning within her hand, slaying every servant of Chaos that dared to approach. Aatu shifted into his wolf form and leaped into the fray, biting off heads and limbs and spraying black gore across the forest with his ferocious attacks.

Alec wasn't sure what frightened him more, the demons or the menacing wolf in their midst. Favion seemed unperturbed by the presence of the massive shifter as his rune-blessed daggers slashed into wraiths cutting them down left and right. Emboldened, Alec nocked his bow and began firing arrows carved with purification runes along their shafts into some of the more bestial demons which burst into white light while letting out ear-splitting shrieks.

Halea deflected the dark sword of a wraith, and before it could rebalance itself, she kicked its legs out from under it and stabbed it where it fell upon the ground, causing it to burst in purification. If things were this bad here, further ahead, her friends were in danger.

"Varg, I have to reach the tear," she shouted over the din.

Varg snarled as he locked swords with another wraith. He couldn't unleash the true power of the Fang without harming one of their allies who were scattered everywhere battling among the many demons, and just as he was about to try and break away to join his mate, a monstrously large form broke out through the trees with a roar that stilled the air. A bestial demon with a behemoth body and an eyeless face of writhing tentacles charged towards them.

Now, there was no choice. Varg gave Halea a single glance, using the bond to convey his encouragement, and with a nod, she broke away from the wraiths and sped out through the trees to find the tear while he raised his sword and charged the massive beast.

* * *

When Halea broke through the trees, the gigantic purple vortex of a tear loomed above her friends. Mama Dragon and Kalee were struggling to reach the dimensional rift, while Hemming and Dacian, their lycan escorts, valiantly tried to defend the priestesses.

"Get a barrier up. Hurry!" Halea shouted as she leaped into the fray, spear blazing as she tore down every servant of Chaos that got in her way.

Kalee began chanting in the ancient language while Halea moved in to help defend her and Mama Dragon, who was already calling upon her powers to seal the tear.

"Daciana, Hemming, get within the barrier," Halea called, and the two lycans drew close to be encircled in the protective ring of purification just as Kalee finished her spell.

Halea stabbed one last demon through the barrier with her spear, before planting the tip of her weapon into the ground and turning with Mama Dragon and Kalee to raise her hands against the tear. Daciana and Hemming stood close, claws at the ready as they watched demon after demon throw themselves against the purified circle and burst into white light with ear-splitting shrieks.

"Tiamet, give us your strength," the devotees prayed in unison, and their hands glowed as the Goddess heard their prayer. The white light of Halea and the priestesses slowly began to engulf the dimensional rift, which pulsed in protest, until with one final thunderous roar, it snapped shut. The demons shrieked and howled in rage to be shut off from the Chaos source before fleeing into the forest.

"We have to go after them," Halea said while pulling her spear from the ground. "Each of you take a lycan," Halea ordered to the priestesses. Mama Dragon and Daciana took off in one direction, but just before Kalee and Hemming were about to chase a trail into the north, they stopped.

"Halea, what about you? We can't leave you without a lycan! What if one of those demons is a shade mimic?" asked Kalee.

"I'll follow the demons that fled back towards Varg and the clerics. I shouldn't be too far from help if I need it," she assured. "Now hurry, before they get away."

* * *

Approaching the monstrous demon was impossible as its tentacles latched into anything that came within range. Varg had managed to slice off several of the tendrils only to be caught and pulled in towards its gaping maw. With one hand, he gripped his sword, which was buried in the beast's jaw, and with the other, he was using all his strength to hold its mouth open, preventing its razor-sharp teeth from chomping him to pieces.

Beneath them, Favion and several other clerics, having defeated the last of the wraiths, were hacking into the creature's colossal legs with their weapons, but the demon's limbs were so thick and sturdy their purified weapons could not pierce its iron-like hide.

Alec fired arrow after arrow, but they all bounced uselessly off their target, and his quiver was running low.

The massive wolf that had been fighting alongside them shifted back into its humanoid form and called out to him. "Shoot into its mouth!"

The shifter who wielded the sword must have heard as well because he strained with all his might to pry the beast's mouth open even further, and Alec knew this was his chance. He nocked another arrow and aimed into the gaping dark abyss of the creature's throat.

"Tiamet, bless this arrow. Let it fly true!" he prayed and adding a few more words in the ancient language, his arrow blazed with the white light of purification as it shot from the bow and straight into the demon's gullet. The beast faltered for a moment before white light began to erupt from its mouth.

As the creature gagged, Varg pulled out his sword and managed to slice off a few more tentacles and leap away just as the purification caused the monstrous demon to explode in a mass of black blood, chunks of flesh, and gigantic shattered bones which littered the ground. There was no escaping the gore as it as it rained down with a horrible stench, completely splattering all over the clerics and lycans who cried out in disgust.

"Holy shit, we did it!" shouted Favion, and several clerics joined in with whoops and hollers.

"How did you know that its throat was its weakness?" Alec asked of Aatu.

"I'm an archer too. Some game is too hard to kill by going through the hide, so you have to aim for the soft spots. Usually, the eyes, but these disgusting demons don't have eyes. I figured its throat would do."

Alec was surprised and impressed. Clerics did not hunt demons the way an animal would be hunted for food, nor did he have any idea that a lycan could be so adept at his weapon of choice, but he figured he should have known that wolves would be expert hunters. He wondered what kind of technique the lycan used, but before he could ask, the larger sword-wielding shifter interrupted their celebration.

"Something's wrong. Halea had a moment of relief, so I'm sure she sealed the tear, but now I sense more danger. Aatu, stay with these clerics and escort them back to the camp," he ordered with red seeping into his eyes before taking off into the woods.

The clerics all looked at each before their lycan escort noticed their confused expressions.

"What?" asked Aatu.

"What the hell is he talking about? Halea's not even here," asked Favion.

"Don't human mates get into each other's heads?" Aatu asked, but he was only met with more stares of confusion.

* * *

Halea tore through the trees, something was moving ahead of her, but to her dismay, it was leading her further away from Varg and the clerics than she wanted to go, and she was forced to skid to a halt.

" _I better let it go. It's not worth getting separated. I'll find Varg first, and he can help me pick up its trail_ ," she thought. As far as she could tell, two demons had fled towards the south when the tear was sealed, but she had already lost track of one, and it was too dangerous to go on alone.

She turned back towards the south and began to make her way through the brush while keeping an eye out for any signs of the other demon's trail when she noticed strange markings on the ground. She tightened her hand around her spear as she fought the temptation to pursue, and her blood seethed at the thought of these evil creatures evading her capture, but she couldn't take risks with her life. With a grunt of defeat, she started moving again, when suddenly she heard Varg's voice calling to her through the trees.

"Halea?"

"Varg! I'm over here," she replied and was relieved as he stepped out from the thick brush and approached. "Thank the gods you're here. You're just in time. There's a trail over here and another one further that way. We can't let these demons escape. Let's go."

"Wait. We'll catch up. I just want to know that you're okay first," Varg pleaded and extended his arms towards her.

Warmth bubbled with her chest to know how much he always worried about her, and she longed to reassure him, but as she neared, she noticed something strange about his emotions.

"You still seem pretty worked up. Are the clerics okay?"

"They're fine. I was just worried about you," he promised while taking a step towards her, and then she noticed something else.

"Varg, did you lose our crystal?" she asked. He had been wearing it every day since she gave it to him at the festival, but now it was gone.

"Our crystal? No, it's with you," he replied, but as he took another step, she moved away from him.

"You're not Varg!" she shouted while brandishing her spear.

When the white light from her weapon shined into his eyes, he let out of shriek unlike anything she had ever heard and covered his face. She lunged forward, but he leaped back, and when he revealed his face again, it was distorted and gruesome, then suddenly his mouth cracked open and snapping mandibles shot out.

She twirled her spear in front of her as the creature jumped into the air to avoid purification, but with perfect aim, she launched her glowing weapon after the shade mimic, which burst into white light with a horrible sound as it writhed into oblivion. A disgusting green smoke rose from its remains and seeped out into the forest where it disappeared among the trees.

"Halea, where are you?" called Varg's voice yet again.

"Varg?" she asked, though now her heart was pounding with fear. What if it wasn't Varg? What if it was another trick?

As Varg appeared through the trees, she swiped her spear at him in warning.

"Stay back!"

"Halea, what are you doing? What's wrong?" he asked.

He was covered from head to toe in black demon blood, and there was a faint trace of rage in his eyes, but she couldn't make out their crystal.

"Is it you?" she asked.

"Of course, it's me. Are you okay? Something attacked you again, didn't it?"

She slowly lowered her spear as he accurately sensed her emotions.

"A shade mimic. It tried to trick me into thinking it was you, but it wasn't wearing our crystal."

"But I am," he assured as he raised the token of her love above his chest and wiped away some of the demon blood to reveal the shining blue beneath.

"Oh, Varg," she cried as she leaped into his arms, causing his eyes to return to normal.

"I'm a bit messy at the moment," he said with a smirk, though he welcomed her embrace. He was relieved that she hadn't been harmed because he could now see the charred remains and smell the stench of the slain demon not far from where they were. His chest clenched in horror as he realized how close she had come to danger, and anger burned within him at the thought that Chaos would use his image to destroy her. Maybe she really was being singled out?

"I tried to come right back to you," she offered in apology.

"Shh, don't. I know. I could sense you coming and then that something went wrong. I came as fast as I could."

"Where are the clerics?" she asked as he released her.

"Heading back to camp. We should get back too. Where are the priestesses?"

"They split up to hunt the demons that escaped when we sealed the tear, and there's also another that went that way," she explained while pointing over her shoulder back towards the trail. "If we hurry, we can catch it."

"Are you sure you're up for it?"

"I'm always up for it," she replied with a feisty grin that made him want to sweep her off her feet and kiss her senseless.

"Puny human, I love you."

"I love you too, you mangy wolf."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A note from your humble author** : Poor Kalee. Immortality isn't all that it's cracked up to be. Uro seems to be adapting to life among the wolves, but they sure are giving him a hard time for being old. What could be lurking behind the eyes within the Chaos? You'll just have to keep reading to find out. MWAHAHAHA! I hope you enjoyed all the demon action this chapter. Those shade mimics are sneaky, sneaky! Good thing Varg still had Halea's crystal. Next chapter, more angsty Lord Anshar. Our favorite tormented woobie.
> 
> Thank you guys for reading. Please let me know what you think of Book 3 so far. I love hearing from you!


	15. A Pest in Their Midst

Halea paced beneath the tree that housed the dark mirror. She hadn't spoken to Lord Anshar since before the festival two months ago. Since then, her grandfather had been interacting with him in her stead, but little progress had been made.

Lord Anshar had revealed that he saw something, someone, within the Chaos, but there was no way to be certain if that was true or if it was just more of his distorted memories playing tricks on him. Was there even a voice, or had it all been in his head? Some manifestation of his darker emotions personified and running wild.

" _That can't be it_ ," Halea thought. " _There is something in there. It used him to hunt the priestesses in its place and stole his blood to make these new demons. It used him for information. Something is in there, and now it knows about me_."

With a final sigh of resolve, she climbed the stairs and entered the darkened room and lit a few candles.

"Lord Anshar, it's me."

The surface of the mirror did not stir, but she waited patiently, and to her relief, his voice called out.

"Halea? Is it you?"

"Yes, Lord Anshar. I'm here."

"Where have you been? Why don't you come to me anymore?"

"I'm sorry. It's just… There's something I need to ask you," she prompted, and when she was met with only silence, she continued. "I was attacked the other day."

"Attacked?" he asked with concern in his voice.

"It's not the first time. I'm used to Chaos trying to kill me for being a priestess, but the thing is, I'm not a priestess anymore. I'm not in uniform. I don't even carry my spear that often these days, yet the demons keep singling me out. They've been resorting to deception. There are these new demons, shade mimics," she explained, then went on to recount all of her strange encounters and the unusual behavior of Chaos's newest servants.

"Since I got into a scuffle last year, I've kept close to the lycans," she went on while avoiding going into details about her battle with Rafe. "I'm usually with a pack of warriors, or our healer, or…. I'm always with someone," she faltered as she skipped over mentioning Varg in fear of inciting Lord Anshar's anger and jealousy.

"Here, I'm guarded – safe, and I think that's the only thing keeping me alive. It knows. Whatever is within the Chaos, it knows who I am. It knows that I was the last chosen sacrifice of Tiamet, and it discovered that information through you because it got into your mind. It wants to kill me more than anyone."

"Halea…I'm so sorry," he spoke, and she could hear that he was weeping. "Forgive me. This is my fault. My weak mind!"

"LIAR!" he suddenly roared, causing her to start. "Bastard! Damn you, I believed your lies! You promised me she would be spared. I knew I was being used, but I wanted to believe. Gods…I wanted to believe."

"Lord Anshar…"

"I wanted it to end. I wanted all of it to end."

Halea blanched at his words as she blinked hot tears from her eyes.

"Did you know the risk? Did you really think there was a chance that your sacrifice could end it when you threw yourself into the Chaos?"

"Yes, I knew the risk. A sacrifice was needed, and I hoped I would be enough, but I knew the risk of my failure, and I chose to die anyway. I couldn't go on. Forgive me. I risked damning the world because I was too weak to go on. I knew what I was doing."

"Oh, Lord Anshar," she wept as the weight of his true decision crushed her heart. He would have sooner let the Chaos destroy their whole world and everyone in it than to perpetuate the cycle. He had gambled with all their lives, and now they were lost.

"I made my choice," he continued. "And I don't regret it."

She gasped in horror at his outburst, but he went on.

"I risked everything, even your life, but I had to. I can't be the one to kill you, Halea. I won't. Let the world burn. Let Tiamet weep! But I will never sacrifice again! Never! Let everything end. Perhaps in death, we may all be free from this torment."

* * *

Varg gently rubbed Halea's back as they lay together in the still of the night. Without fail, the dragon would always make her cry, and it made him angry and frustrated because there was nothing he could do but try to comfort her.

Even though he didn't need as much sleep as her, he stayed throughout the night, offering the warmth of his love and support with just his presence. He would never leave her side when he knew how much she needed him. Sometimes she would wake, panicked and screaming and trembling in his arms, and only his voice could bring her out of her nocturnal terrors.

She wasn't the only one afraid. He needed her too. The ever-present fear of the Swordmaster's prophecy would consume him as he lay awake at night, the only time when he could openly worry without Halea noticing. He could always tell when she was asleep by the gentle rhythm of her breathing and the way her emotions would become vague and jumbled. When she was awake, he masked his fear. She was already worried to the point of making herself sick. Even her scent was taking on a new quality, and he knew the stress had to be getting to her.

Through their window, the moon rose above the clouds and cast pale silver light across her face. He placed a gentle kiss to her brow and ever-so-slightly tightened his embrace as she lay in his arms. She let out an adorable moan but never awoke. They had made love until quite late that night, and the scent of her passion still hung heavy in the air. But before his thoughts could turn to his usual nightly brooding, a faint sound disturbed the silence.

" _Is that a mouse? A bird?_ " he wondered as he listened to a small but rapid heartbeat somewhere within their tree. It seemed muffled, which made it hard for him to detect its direction of origin. Because wolves were apex predators, most other animals avoided making homes within their tree-dwellings. Even though a rodent was hardly of interest to such large and powerful hunters, most small creatures instinctively avoided coming anywhere near the scent of a wolf. It was unusual for lycans to experience issues with pests.

He tried to ignore it, but eventually got up to sniff around and see where it was coming from, but oddly enough, he couldn't detect the scent of any small animals. It wasn't coming from the walls, perhaps it was outside in the branches?

Night after night, this sound would plague him, but he could never find the source. He even once angrily threw one of Halea's boots out the window and into the branches to see if he could scare the annoying thing away, but despite almost waking his sleeping mate, it remained. He had to apologize to Halea the next morning when she woke up to find one of her boots missing, and he was forced to retrieve it from outside where it had fallen into the mud and gotten soggy in the night. There was no choice but to patiently accept her scolding after that.

As spring drew to a close, the traders made their bi-annual visit to the western lands. With so many human refugees, Halea made sure to get extra supplies to ensure the Tiamet worshippers had more food than just meat. She purchased sacks of grain, large quantities of dried fruits and other preserved foods, wine, tea, of the variety that her grandfather preferred, and anything else the priestesses and clerics would need.

Mama Dragon had come to meet the badger therians with a list, but Halea had snatched it away, insisting that she would procure everything they needed. The priestess fretted over the purchases the entire time Halea was with the strange-looking traders, and she again tried to offer whatever funds the devotees had to pay for their necessities, but Halea only pulled out a hefty bag containing a large sum of gold without even batting an eye.

"Are you sure we can't pay you back?" asked Mama Dragon.

"I won't allow it. You've always done so much to help us, and Varg said that I'm to get you everything you could want or need. So, stop worrying," Halea insisted before calling over several strong lycan males to help carry all the newly acquired supplies back to the refugees' camp.

Just as Halea was finishing up with the traders, Batsuba approached.

"I'm done. We should still have some time to get some field research in before lunch," Halea offered in apology as Batsuba regarded her with a scrunched expression.

"Halea, there's something you should know."

"Know what?"

"Come up to my tree," said the elder, and together they left the common area and went back to Batsuba's home.

Once they were inside Batsuba's tree-dwelling, the old healer bade for Halea to have a seat. The young woman regarded her in confusion but sat down and waited for Batsuba to explain their need for a private conversation.

"Halea, your scent has changed."

"Oh, Varg mentioned that. I guess I've been under a lot of stress."

"That's not stress. Have you been feeling ill at all?"

"Well, now that you mention it, my stomach has been feeling a little queasy lately."

"Halea, you're pregnant."

Halea froze, her mouth slightly agape and eyes wide in shock as the scent of fear burst from her skin with such force that it overpowered the potent herbs in the old healer's home. Batsuba could hear her pounding heart but very little breathing and went to place a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"Halea, it's okay."

"No! No, it's not okay. Not now! I can't have a baby now! What if the world is ending?"

"We don't know that, Halea."

"A convergence will come. It's only a matter of time. If I don't find out how to stop it before it gets here, we're all dead. Or I'll be dead…I was Tiamet's last chosen sacrifice."

"Didn't you give Varg your word?"

"I did, and I mean to keep it. I can never sacrifice myself again. It would destroy him too. But what if something or someone else kills me? Lord Anshar swears he'd never sacrifice me, but he's not in his right mind, and then there's the demons. Whatever's in the Chaos knows who I am and has marked me for death. What if I leave my baby behind? What if I leave Varg behind? Oh, Batsuba, I'm so frightened!"

"Halea, get a grip on yourself! What's done is done. I understand your concerns, and you're right to be afraid. We're all afraid, but you must stay strong. We don't know when the end will come, and there's still hope."

"What will I do?" Halea asked as tears glistened in her eyes.

"Cherish every day. Every. Single. One. One at a time. Can you really say that this is all bad news?"

Halea sat thoughtfully for a moment, her hand absently gliding over her still-flat stomach. She did want a baby. She wanted Varg's baby. She wanted to know the sort of love and happiness that she once saw when Ralphina and Lycurgus were still expecting. When all the world was wrapped in the impending joy of knowing that their child would soon be with them. Perhaps it was meant to be. What if this was her only chance?

"No, it's not all bad. I want our baby. I want it more than anything."

"Then be happy. I'm happy for you too. Except for having to deal with Varg. That's going to be a nightmare."

"What do you mean?" Halea asked.

"If you thought Lycurgus was an ass when Ralphina was pregnant, you haven't seen anything yet. There's nothing worse than an alpha male when his mate is pregnant. They're simply unbearable."

* * *

Rufus had scoured the wilds for months, and now it was almost summer. He delivered written messages with instructions to seek refuge in the lycan lands to every priestess and cleric he found, and occasionally, he would check in on Samesa, who was also spreading the word. She was so thoroughly on her guard, he didn't have to worry about a shade mimic getting the drop on her again, but he still didn't like her not being in the safety of the wolf's lands. He wanted to appear before her in his humanoid form again, but it was hard coming up with believable excuses for why she kept encountering the same ranger so much. Suspect or no, this was his last chance to talk to her before she went to join the other priestesses. Once she was in the lycan territory, she wouldn't be able to receive any more visits from wandering rangers, and there was no way to know how long the devotees would have to remain among the wolves.

He landed and transformed into his humanoid self, then sat down next to the one forest path that he knew she would follow into the east. His scent wasn't as strong as a wolf's, but he was downwind and could tell she wasn't far.

"Sufur?" she called as the came down the trail and sighted the ranger.

"Samesa! It's good to see you again," he exclaimed while getting up to greet her, but she halted him.

"Wait! What's the plan?" she asked while brandishing her spear.

"Plan? Oh, I get it. Your people are going to the lycan lands for safety, right?"

Samesa relaxed and lowered her spear. It was easy to question those she met about things that happened after her mind had been infiltrated as a way of proving who was a demon and who was not, but it was a little harder to be sure if it was someone she hadn't spoken to since before her encounter with the shade mimic. She had seen a few bestial demons, a couple wraiths, and sealed a single small tear, but thankfully, she hadn't run into anymore disguised servants of Chaos. It made her wonder if perhaps the Chaos now new that she was onto their tricks.

"Sorry. I just had to be sure," she explained.

"I get it. You don't have to apologize. Any luck finding others?"

"I finally spread the message to everyone that I knew where to find."

"They must have been pretty well hidden. I didn't find any," he said, but in truth, he was covering for the fact he couldn't appear before anyone else in his humanoid form. It was safer to spread the message as a falcon, and it would have been odd if none of the other priestesses or clerics mentioned seeing a ranger.

"Well, thank you for offering to spread the word anyway. I guess now that that's done, it's time for me to join them. If we don't meet again, goodbye."

"Before you go, don't you want me to show you how to make fire?"

"I would like that, but won't it take a while?" she asked with temptation in her sparkling dark eyes.

"It's just one spell, so it shouldn't take long. You can practice it on your own time," he promised.

Rufus silently thanked the gods that Sophia, after completing her priestess training, had thought to share some of her knowledge of the ancient language and a few basic spells with him. Elemental spells had always been of particular interest, and he had practiced for many years to achieve the tiny flames that he could produce. It wasn't much, not nearly as powerful as what a real ranger could do, but he was confident that Samesa could pick it up with ease.

He began with the first half of the spell, and Samesa's face grew crestfallen.

"I know this part, but it doesn't work for me," she explained after recognizing the familiar words of the ancient language.

"There's more," he promised and added a few unexpected invocations.

"Air?" she cried in doubt, but before she could argue further, a flame came to life within his hands.

"See. Fire needs a little air to help it along. Just like when you're lighting a flame without magic, and you blow on it. Or when you use a fireplace bellows. Something about adding a small amount of air seems to help. I know it's not much, but it's enough to get you started. With practice, you can master the spell without having to speak the words aloud, and maybe in time, you can strengthen the spell and learn to bend it to your will. Why don't you give it a try?"

Sufur gave her a nod of encouragement, and mustering her resolve, she opened her palms to the heavens and called upon the ancient elemental magic.

A tiny yellow spark ignited and flickered, and once again, she invoked the word for air, causing the fading flame to burst forth within her hands and burn bright and true.

"I did it!" she cried, and Sufur's heart thrummed within his chest as her lovely face glowed as much from her radiant smile as from the fire within her hands.

She was so beautiful. He had always given her shiny things to make her smile, but nothing compared to the joy the gift of fire had given her. He would have gladly spent an eternity finding new ways to make her happy just to keep seeing that shining look in her eyes.

"You're brilliant. The most amazing woman in the world," he declared, and though her complexion was too dark to reveal a blush, the bashful expression she wore at his praise told him that his words had touched something within her.

"It's a start, but I'm grateful. Thank you, Sufur," she said as the flame dwindled away within her hands. "I promise I'll practice every chance I get. Maybe someday I can wield fire with as much skill as a ranger."

"If you wanted to, you could be the best," he promised, and again she looked pleased but embarrassed by his open praise.

* * *

Batsuba's diagnosis had struck Halea like a bolt of lightning, and for the entire rest of the day, she had been struggling to come to terms with the truth of her condition, and most importantly, she had to tell Varg.

How would she tell him? When? She didn't know, and there was no hiding the confusion and anxiety within her. She couldn't block him all day. His concern reached out to her like a warm hand across their bond, and when he returned from the day's hunt, he immediately wanted to know what was distressing her.

"Halea, what's wrong?"

"I'm sorry. Something's come up, but please don't worry. I'm just not ready to talk about it right now."

"But what is it? You can tell me anything," he promised, but she avoided his eyes, and he detected the scent of fear. "Halea?"

"Please, Varg. I just need to gather my thoughts. Please understand. We can talk about it later."

A spark of dread rose within him. It had to be something terrible. Halea always shared everything with him, and now she seemed afraid to speak to him, and he wondered if he had done something wrong.

She detected his dark turn of emotions but rushed to reassure him.

"It's not you. I swear."

"All right. If you're not ready, I'll understand, but please don't keep me in the dark forever. You're freaking me out."

Despite trying to brush it off, he was on pins and needs all throughout dinner, and an uncomfortable silence had fallen between them as they walked back to their treehouse at the end of the night, and still, she didn't seem ready to talk.

Once they were home, she changed into a thin summer nightdress and crawled into bed beside him and laid her head on his chest. All he could do was wrap his arms around her and hope that she was okay.

"Varg, do you still hear it?"

"Hear what?"

"The little mouse. You said some pest had moved into our tree, and you could hear its heart beating. Do you still hear it?"

He strained his ears to listen beyond the rustling of the wind through the branches of their tree, and the steady beating of their own two hearts, and beyond that, still muffled and faint but ever-present, a small, fast fluttering.

"It's still here."

"It's our baby," she said.

A moment of silence stretched on into eternity, and eventually, she looked up into his face, but his eyes were staring blankly at the ceiling, and the bond, it was open, but there was nothing, as if he couldn't grasp onto a single emotion and so there were none.

"Varg?"

"Our…what?" he finally asked with strain in his voice.

"Batsuba told me today. My scent hasn't changed because of stress. It's because I'm pregnant. That little heartbeat, it's in me."

"Halea?" he asked as she rolled away from him onto her back, and when he met her gaze, she nodded. He sat up and looked at her where she lay before leaning over her and gently placing his ear over her abdomen.

Fast and strong and undeniable, he could hear the life of their unborn child.

The bond surged as panic, joy, fear, excitement, and confusion erupted within him, and Halea bit her lip in fearful apprehension of which emotion would finally surface in dominance. And to her disappointment, it was fear.

"Varg?"

He lifted his head and softly placed his hand over her stomach, his eyes clenched shut as the muscles strained along his neck and jaw.

Everything he ever wanted was finally his, and the moment was shattered by his secret burden.

The prophecy.

" _She can't leave me. She can't die! Not now! I can't be left behind!_ " he thought in dismay. His only comfort in her inevitable fate was the knowledge that he could follow her, that even death would never keep them apart, but now he had to consider their child. If anything happened to Halea, he could not abandon their cub. No matter how much he longed for death, he would be bound to the life they had created together. The hand that wasn't resting on his mate's stomach clenched into a fist as he recalled his father.

The death of his mother had destroyed his father's spirit, turning him into a shell of his former self. Cold. Withdrawn. Emotionless. He remembered all too well how his father couldn't bear to look into his eyes because they were his mother's eyes. As a child, he couldn't understand the depth of his father's grief, all he had known was that it felt as if his father cursed his very existence, resenting that he had to stay behind to raise his only son rather than join his mate in the next world.

Now, as a man, Varg knew his father's pain. Loving Halea and bonding with her allowed him to finally understand and even forgive his father for the way he was treated after his mother's death. But that didn't change the fact that he had felt cold and unloved by the only parent that he had left.

What if he did that to their child? What if Halea died, and he resented being left behind? What if he took it out on their cub?

His heart thundered in his chest as panic and fear consumed him.

What if he was just like his father? What if he wasn't strong enough to get past his grief and raise their child with all the love and warmth that it deserved? The alpha in him roared possessively at the very thought of any suffering being wrought upon the precious life they had created together, even if by his own hands. He couldn't bear the thought of turning cold against anything that was a part of his beloved Halea. He needed to protect it, cherish it, like the treasure that it was - the greatest gift his mate had ever given him. He couldn't make their child suffer as he had suffered, but the very thought of losing Halea, of being left behind, wracked him with unbearable sorrow.

He had no way of knowing how he would react if the prophecy came true while they were still raising their cub. Was he a stronger man than his father? He didn't know, but he knew losing Halea would destroy him. Of that, he was certain.

When he finally opened his eyes, he balked when he looked up to see that Halea was crying as she stared back at him.

"Varg…I…I thought you wanted this," she sobbed.

"Halea, it's not that! Don't even think it! It's just…like you, I'm afraid of the future," he said as he sat up and pulled her into his arms. "I'm afraid I'm not strong enough, to protect you, to protect this child. I wasn't lying when I said I wanted to give you a cub…it's just, I didn't want to think of the consequences, and now that it's happened, it's finally hit me how precarious our situation is."

"I know," she whispered as fresh tears streamed down her cheeks. "I wanted to wait for a better time. If there ever would be a better time. I'm so sorry."

"No, Halea!" he demanded while pushing her back so she would be forced to meet his gaze. "Don't apologize. Not for this! No matter what dangers lie ahead, or what happens to our world or when, I want this! I want our baby. I want you! I love you more than anything, and I swear upon the gods, I will love our child. I already do! Everything I've ever wanted is right here in my arms," he promised before kissing her passionately.

The bond shifted from fear and sadness to excitement, longing, and a love so intense it made her head swim. When he finally broke their kiss, her tears had dried, and her heart was thrumming in her chest.

"Varg, are you really happy?" she asked, hardly believing the shift in his emotions.

"Yes! You're pregnant! You're mine, and you're carrying my child – our child," he huskily breathed as he ran his lips down her jaw and lower along her throat until he latched his fangs harmlessly but possessively over her mating mark.

His hands roamed lower along her body, igniting warmth in their wake, and she gasped as he pulled up her nightdress and trailed his fingers along her thighs.

"Varg, I love you so much," she professed as he slipped his fingers along her tingling folds, sending heat into her core.

The wolf within him stirred as the scent of her arousal permeated the air, and the red seeped into the edges of his eyes.

His.

His mate. His child. He'd fight the world for them both. Lay down his life for them both. Possessive need consumed him as he pulled her nightdress over her head and discarded it on the floor.

He always slept nude, so there was nothing between her and his hard, chiseled body. She feasted her eyes on him as he hovered above her, limned in moonlight through their open window. Faint scars could be seen all along his flesh, but beneath the skin rippled powerful muscles that twitched as she ran her fingers over his body. His eyes glowed in the low light, revealing his lust, and he growled in need as her hands explored lower and along his pulsing shaft.

As much as he loved her touch, his inner wolf was taking control, and tonight the beast was impatient. He leaned over her but paused as he considered that perhaps he should start being gentler with her in her current state. With an encouraging nudge from him, she rolled onto her side, where he settled in close behind her and began exploring her voluptuous curves.

"Halea," he growled in a deeper bestial voice as he breathed in the intoxicating scent of her skin. She moaned as his hot mouth sucked and nipped along her throat while his fingers found the node between her legs and softly worked their magic.

When his fingers were coated in her lust, and there was no air but the scent of her arousal, he knew that she was ready. She cried out as he lifted one of her legs and inserted himself into her burning depths.

"Varg," she pleaded as he latched his fangs onto her mating mark. Through their bond, she could sense that his primal beast had assumed control. Dominance and carnal hunger raged within him as thrust inside of her. The heat was building within her as she felt the sharp prick of his fangs penetrating the surface of her skin, sending shivers up her spine and a shudder throughout her body. Sweet released washed over her as he claimed her, and she threw back her head in utter submission, causing him to emit a rumbling growl from deep within his chest as the red fully consumed his eyes as he came undone inside of her.

His arms embraced her possessively and lovingly from behind as the wolf within him receded.

"Halea?" he breathed as she was falling asleep.

"Hmm?"

"You've made me the happiest man alive."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A note from your humble author** : I think I walk a tightrope between giving you guys what you've all seen coming for ages and surprising you with what you never would have guessed. Am I right? Yep, Varg knocked her up during the festival. Are you happy now? Bring on a baby half-wolven! Also, bring on the drams. If Varg were to lose Halea, could he avoid the same fate as his father? Will he lose Halea? To find out, you'll just have to keep reading! MWAHAHAHAHA
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! BTW, my SPFBO judge uploaded her YouTube video review for Torn Apart. I didn't win the competition, of course, I didn't expect to, but I got a good review out of it, so if you're curious you can watch the video on my blog jmriddles dot com under extras and then reviews or search YouTube for Kitty G's book reviews. It's the video titled "3 Fun SPFBO Titles." (Uploaded October 2019).


	16. The Mounting Danger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A note from your humble author** : Here's a nice long chapter for you. :)

"But the God of the Dead refused to heed the call, and so Tiamet, in her infinite wisdom, stripped him of his sword, and cast him..."

Edmond stopped reading as the shrieking from the patient down the hall became too distracting, and with a defeated sigh, he closed the sacred text.

"I'm sorry, Dean, it's a bit too loud to read in here, but don't worry, I won't leave you."

Dean didn't react to Edmond's futile act of altruism. He only stared blankly ahead of him into nothingness as a trail of spittle ran down his chin. At the other end of the wing, Theia lay sleeping in one of the infirmary beds. She no longer called out for her daughter.

Codeon walked in and found the usual state of her fellow cleric and shook her head in remorse.

"Did you send the raven?" Edmond asked as his friend approached.

"Yes."

They had decided that it was time to send a message to Senior Priestess Gwen to gather any devotees that she could find in the capital and to head for the lycan lands.

"I'm not sure how long that will take. It's not going to be easy for her to break away from the king's council. I think we should leave too."

"No," Edmond quickly replied. "I can't leave him. This is my fault. I promised. He was so afraid of going on that mission, and I promised him I would look after him, that I wouldn't leave his side. He trusted me."

"Edmond, you've got to stop! You can't keep blaming yourself. Look...I know things were still kind of up in the air between you two, but it was clear how much he cared about you. He wouldn't want you to torture yourself like this."

Edmond's face darkened as unshed tears glistened in his eyes. "I can't. I can't turn my back on him. I know there's no hope, but I made a promise, and I won't leave him!"

Codeon placed a gentle hand on Edmond's shoulder as he shuddered in grief.

"Besides," he continued. "I also promised Master Uro that I would keep an eye on Halea's mother. I can't leave."

Codeon nodded in defeat.

"I had a feeling you wouldn't leave him behind, and while I hate to see you do this to yourself, I understand. Can you do me a favor? If my husband sends any messages to the castle, can you have a raven pass them on to me?"

"Does he know?" asked Edmond.

"Yes, I told him I don't know when I'll be back."

"Did you tell him that you love him?"

"Of course. I made a promise too. I told him if we can survive one more winter, I'll quit being a cleric and come home to him for good."

Edmond looked up in shock.

"That doesn't leave us a lot of time to save the world, but it's as much time as I can give," she explained with a sad smile.

"Is that really what you want?" asked Edmond.

"I wanted us to find a way to end all this, but the way things are going, it looks like it will be our end instead. I know I haven't exactly been a good wife, but when the end comes, I don't want to go out with regrets. You understand, don't you?" she asked, and Edmond nodded.

"Codeon?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm going to miss you while you're gone, and thank you for being such a good friend."

#

Halea sat quietly at the fire pit sipping tea while her grandfather prattled on, telling one his old stories about his days as a younger cleric and his adventures across the sea. She'd heard this one before, many times, but for some reason, he never got tired of retelling the same stories over and over again. She obliged him with her partial attention. It made her realize how depressingly lonely he must have been over the past few years, and she desperately wanted to make it up to him.

To her relief, her grandfather seemed to have settled into life among the lycans with surprising ease, but she supposed that was because her own experience among the wolves had paved the way. Most of the lycans gave him his space, but to her surprise, many had offered their friendship. One afternoon she had gone looking for Batsuba to begin their field study for the day when she happened upon her grandfather sitting with the old healer and Marrok, having a lively discussion entirely in the ancient language. The three seniors all turned on her with eyes that expressed irritation at her intrusion, and she quietly backed away.

She had been waiting all morning for the right moment to tell him, and now that they were alone, she didn't want to let the opportunity pass.

"I purified four wraiths before that stupid rookie would get off his ass and lend a hand. I hope cleric training isn't as lax over there today as it was when I was a lad. Alas, I'll never cross the sea again to know."

"I'm pregnant!" she blurted before he could continue.

Uro halted his cup of tea before it reached his lips and stared at her with slack-jawed surprise.

"With what?" he asked with unblinking eyes, before shaking his head and correcting himself. "I mean...you are? How?"

"Gods, grandfather, don't ask me that question!" she begged as her face turned bright red.

The old man sputtered in mortification for a moment.

"I meant...well...he's not human. I just assumed...that wasn't something that happened."

"Apparently, it does happen – just not very often. Are you okay?" Halea asked as her grandfather's face went pale with shock.

"Gods, I'm old. You know you're really damn old when you're having greatgrandchildren."

Halea couldn't help but laugh at her grandfather's shallow concern, but eventually, his face grew serious.

"When your parents told me that you'd been born blessed, I assumed my line would end with you. You'd swear the oath, and that would be it, and for the longest time, I thought that was what I wanted – a priestess in the family. I had served all my life, only to lose your grandmother and all my children, including your father, and I felt as if Tiamet had abandoned me, but then you were born. I thought the Goddess had finally answered my prayers. I was wrong. A stupid old fool. I wanted you to be powerful, to be favored, but not to be chosen. Perhaps I was punished for my hubris. I don't know how much longer I have in this world, but before I die, I want to see you happy. Are you happy?"

"Well, aside from the unknown fate of our world, for this, I'm happy," she replied with glistening eyes and a warm smile.

"Then I'm happy for you. Maybe if I'm lucky, and the gods don't completely have it out for me, I'll live long enough to see this greatgrandchild."

"You're not allowed to die. You're the only family I have left, and I need you. I just wish...I wish mother were alive."

Uro grew silent and grave for a moment, and without meeting her eyes, he gently patted his granddaughter's hand.

"I'm not the only family you have left anymore," he reminded.

"I guess you're right," she replied. She had Varg, and now their child, and living among the lycans and alongside the priestesses felt like having one big extended family, and it warmed her heart that everyone she loved and held dear was so close. She and Varg were overjoyed to know that they would soon have a child of their own, but at the same time, she was frightened. She had never had a baby before, and it occurred to her that maybe she didn't know what she was doing. Whenever the doubt began to creep over her, her thoughts would always turn to her mother. If she could be half the parent her mother was, everything would be okay. Even though it had been years since her death, Halea still mourned the loss of her mother. Her mother had understood her and loved her unconditionally, and there were times while enjoying her newfound happiness that she would think – " _If only you were here_."

Halea quickly wiped a tear from her eye. There was no helping it, her mother was gone - forever.

"You won't mind having a half-therian greatgrandchild?" she asked.

"I'm still in shock to have any kind of greatgrandchild. These wolves are...interesting. Not what I expected. Some of their ways seem savage and wild, but in many other ways, they aren't very different from us. I admit that in the past, there were times when I would forget that Lord Anshar wasn't just another human. He was so lordly, so civil and refined. I convinced myself that he was unlike any other therian, that he was uniquely sympathetic to humanity because he was of Tiamet's blood. I traveled enough in my youth to know that there are evil therians in this world who slaughtered humans out of nothing more than pure hatred, but I suppose they're not all like that. I don't know what to expect from a half-therian child, but at least a small part of it will be of my blood, and I don't want to make the same mistakes all over again."

Halea was glad to hear that her grandfather was coming around, but before she could ruminate much longer, howls echoed through the trees and were passed on until they reached the den. Excusing herself, she quickly jumped up and ran out to meet their warriors.

"Lyall, what is it?" she asked while skidding to a halt at the edge of the den.

"A runner, from the north," he translated, and Halea sighed in relief that it wasn't another demon attack, though she wasn't entirely comforted. What could bring a runner from the north?

When the runner entered the den, Varg was already with him. The northern lycan stopped to offer his greetings to Halea and introduced himself as Sandalius, and once the formalities were out of the way, the three of them relocated to the alpha's pit.

Food and drink quickly arrived to refresh the tired runner, and from her peripheral, Halea noticed Alf and Jance observing from a distance, no doubt excited to see one of their fellow pack members.

After Sandalius had a moment to catch his breath and slake his thirst, he explained the reason for his visit.

"I bring grave news. Three tears have opened in the north."

"Three?" cried Halea, who was immediately suspicious as to why Chaos was suddenly attacking outside of the western lands with such force.

"Please, you must send priestesses to help us. We slaughter any demons that come near the den, but we can't risk getting too close to those tears. If any of our warriors get injured by those dark weapons, we have no one there to purify the wounds. Bertolf will not risk the lives of the pack, but the tears stand between us and our hunting grounds."

Varg shot Halea a knowing look, and she nodded.

"You're in luck; we've given refuge to the Tiamet worshippers since the gathering," Halea explained.

"I did notice that strange camp that reeked of humans as I passed through from the north," replied Sandalius.

"I can send a few priestesses and some clerics to help you, but they must be guarded on the journey," Halea continued. "The reason they're here is they're being hunted by demons that can only be detected by scent. I'll bet Chaos is trying to lure the servants of Tiamet away from the safety of our den."

"I'll go!" announced Alf, who overheard every word and immediately flew into panic at the thought of his home and people being in danger. "Bertolf will need me, and I can help protect the Tiamet worshippers along the way," he offered as he approached the alpha's pit with a respectful bow of his head.

Jance ran up behind him. The color had drained from her face, and her eyes were wide with concern. "Alf?"

"Jance, you should stay," suggested her mate.

"What? I don't want to be without you."

"He's right," interjected Varg. "If Halea's suspicions are true, the journey will be dangerous, and Alf will already have his hands full guarding the priestesses and clerics without having to guard you too."

"Don't worry," Alf said while embracing his trembling mate. "We'll beat their asses, and as soon as the danger's over, I'll come back to the west. I'll always come back to you," he promised while placing a kiss on the top of his tiny mate's head.

"He'll be okay, Jance. We've got the best priestesses and clerics here to help. We better go over there and give them the news," Halea added before standing, and Varg got up with her. Jance, Alf, and Sandalius followed them out to the Refugee's camp.

"Tears? Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Mama Dragon asked Halea once their party arrived and explained the situation.

"Maybe Choas know that we've been protecting you," Halea confirmed, and Mama Dragon nodded.

"It could be testing the extent of our alliance with the wolves," added Samesa, who had rushed away from the clerics to embrace her former priestess friend.

"Well, who should we send?" asked Mama Dragon.

"I'll go," volunteered Samesa.

"You just got here this morning," argued Halea. "Stay and rest. Besides, if our theory about Chaos is right, I have a feeling we're going to be seeing more runners. You'll be back out there fighting again soon enough."

"I can take this mission," offered Kalee.

"I'm going too!" Favion declared while ignoring the reproachful glare of the redheaded priestess.

Two more priestesses volunteered, one of them being Pauline who had arrived a few days earlier and eight clerics, and after Alf bade farewell to his tearful mate, the devotees and their lycan escorts set out for the north.

Varg and Halea walked Jance back to the den, but the poor woman was inconsolable.

"I'm sorry, it's just, Alf and I are hardly ever apart," she explained through sobs and sniffles.

Halea wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulder and sensed a pang of guilt from Varg.

Varg was often haunted with shame for the time he thought he was leaving Halea at the den for her own safety, and the moment his back was turned, Rafe, the previous southern alpha, attacked and nearly killed her.

"Alf is a good warrior, and the priestesses will help save your pack," Varg offered in condolence. "He'll return to you. In the meantime, you're safe here with us. The western pack is here for you."

"Aw, you're one of those sweetheart alphas, just like Bertolf," Jance exclaimed as her eyes brightened at Varg's kind words.

Halea stifled a giggle when she sensed that Jance's compliment had embarrassed her mate and caused his long, pointy ears to turn a little red.

"He's a total softy," Halea added and snickered when Varg shot her a look that said he was going to pay her back for the teasing the moment they were alone.

#

Just as she suspected, there were more runners. A few days later, Ralph arrived on behalf of Raoul and the southern pack with news of tears and increased demon activity. Samesa, who had met Raoul and helped the southern pack the year before, volunteered to go again and took a handful of clerics and a few lycan warriors as escorts. It wasn't long before Fenris arrived from the east to also implore for aid.

Halea couldn't help her curiosity, and as Supreme Wolfmother, she had the right to ask.

"How are you doing, Fenris? I wasn't here to say goodbye when you left."

"Elder Batsuba is a skilled healer, I'm well."

"How are you getting on with Otsana these days?"

He looked a little shamefaced as he lowered his gaze, but eventually, he replied. "She is my Wolfmother. I respect her. I'll admit it wasn't easy at first. I always envisioned myself as someone capable of leadership and convinced myself that Otsana wouldn't rise to the challenge, but she did, and she proved herself more than worthy. We all still mourn the loss of Alpha Ethelwolf and Wolfmother Úlfa, but I think the pack has handled their passing better for the fact that their daughter has succeeded them. She's a lot like them, and it's almost as if our old alpha pair is still there because not much has changed, and that's a comfort to most. I admit, if it had been me, I probably would have shaken things up, and perhaps in time, someone would have challenged me for it. I don't think anyone will ever challenge Otsana, she's where she belongs."

"I'm glad to hear that things are going so well," Halea said with relief.

"She asked me to tell you that you're always welcome to visit the eastern pack and that she looks forward to seeing you again."

Halea beamed at Otsana's thoughtful, personal message. She was so happy that they had set aside their differences and could finally be friends, and it was nice having another Wolfmother among the lycans.

"I'll have some priestesses and clerics ready to set out with you by this afternoon. Please give Otsana my best wishes and tell her that I look forward to seeing her again too. Oh, did she have any messages for Varg?"

"No."

#

Tears were even springing up in the wilds beyond the boundaries of the lycan territories, but still suspiciously close enough to where the lycans and devotees were made aware of their presence.

Despite their reservations about straying away from their lands, lycan warriors would still accompany the priestesses as far as the northern mountains and all the way to the edges of the ruined city to ensure their safety as they performed their duties. As soon as the demons were slain and the rifts close, they would all quickly return to the safety of the den, but the situation grew more dire with every day. As the Chaos activity increased, more were injured, and there were many close calls with dark blades. In time, the lycan warriors and devotees were seen returning from missions carrying the bodies of the fallen.

Wails of grief were often heard among the den as news arrived of another loss. Someone's mate. Someone's parent. Someone's child. Several bond-broken lycans were soon to follow their fallen loves, and there were many funerals. Halea's heart ached as she would stand with Varg and Batsuba and pray over the graves while feeling helpless and afraid. If it wasn't a lycan funeral, it was a devotee's funeral. Clerics were usually the first to fall. As unblessed worshippers of Tiamet and mortal humans, they had no innate defenses against the evil poison of the dark blades. Even a few priestesses were slain, and their loss was the most devastating because they were the only ones with the power to seal the tears and with every day their numbers were dwindling.

Uro gathered reports on all the tear and demon activity brought back by the surviving priestesses and clerics, and soon his private cave was strewn with charts containing the accumulated data, and he did not like what he was seeing.

He didn't dare mention his findings to Halea. She was in a delicate condition, and the stress and grief of their situation and the recent losses had already upset her enough. Things were looking grim. It was still too soon to calculate when, but all signs pointed to the coming of another convergence.

Halea hadn't told anyone else about her pregnancy. It was hard enough telling Varg and her grandfather, but eventually, everyone would find out if only for the strange behavior of their alpha.

Varg's had been erratic and volatile ever since learning that his mate was with child. He fluctuated between being ecstatic and pleased to hot-tempered and possessive.

Halea could sense that he was happy about the baby but also cripplingly frightened at the same time, and he was always on edge.

One morning Halea awoke and was surprised to find that Varg was still there. Usually, he was up before dawn, planning the hunts for the day and overseeing the sentries. But before she could question him, her stomach lurched, and she raced for the window, leaned out, and released the contents of her stomach.

"Halea, what's wrong? Are you okay? I'll get Batsuba!" he fretted with a panicky look in his eyes.

"No. No, it's okay," Halea argued. "It's just morning sickness. It's normal." This wasn't her first bout of morning sickness, but usually, Varg wasn't home in the morning to witness the worst of it and blocking the bond had kept him from fretting and spoiling the hunts.

"Normal?" he practically shouted.

"Varg, calm down. I've helped Batsuba care for enough pregnant she-wolves since becoming an apprentice to know at least a few things about what to expect. You better get used to this. I..." but before she could continue, she had to lean out the window to be sick once more. She didn't usually get so violently ill straight out the window, but this morning her nausea seemed particularly terrible.

Apprentice or no, that was as much as Varg could tolerate, and as soon as Halea was done, he scooped her up into his arms and whisked her off to Batsuba's tree.

"Come on, Varg, I can walk," she argued.

"No!" he growled, and she could sense that he was in that alpha state of mind where he was not about to tolerate any argument.

When they finally reached the old healer's tree, Batsuba sighed at Varg's behavior.

"Out," she commanded Varg, and Halea was shocked when he snarled at the elder. He was usually so tolerant of the she-wolf's snappish behavior.

"Oh, save it. Unless you know how to brew herbs to cure morning sickness, you're just a big lump getting in my way. She'll be fine, now out!"

Halea could hear his growl growing steadily louder and knew she had to step in.

"It's okay, Varg. I think we have it under control," she soothed, and reluctantly her irritated mate left them alone.

"I warned you. It'll get worse," Batsuba said as she poured hot water over some herbs in a cup. "Alphas are absolutely insufferable when their mates are pregnant. Their instinctual need to protect is at its highest. As if he wasn't already a hothead. Here, drink this," she said while offering Halea the mild medicinal tea.

"He seems worried," Halea replied while taking a sip and nearly burning her tongue on the hot liquid. "Ow."

"It's not entirely unwarranted. Pregnant females are more delicate and vulnerable, and that sets any lycan male on edge. He's going to be tiresomely overbearing until this cub is born, but if you want to make it as easy on yourself as possible, humor him. Though I hate to say it, that's the only way. Let him fuss. Allowing him to think he has control of the situation, whether that's true or not, is the only thing that'll give him peace of mind."

Halea nodded her head before finishing her tea, which had finally cooled.

When Halea came down from Batsuba's tree, she found Varg waiting for her.

"Weren't you going hunting?" she asked.

"I decided to let Lyall manage it for today. Are you okay? You were in pain."

"No, I...oh, that. The tea was a little hot. Varg, everything's going to be okay," she promised, as she watched him sigh and press his fingers to the bridge of his nose.

"I'm sorry, it's just...I've been thinking - worrying."

"Yeah, I can tell," she said with a crooked grin.

"All these tears and demons. Things are getting worse. Every time there's a howl you race out to the refugee camp. I know you haven't been joining the missions because of the risks, but you're always out there and I don't want you getting so involved anymore. It's too dangerous."

"Varg..."

"Halea, I know they're your people. And I'm not saying to never fight Chaos again. I'm just asking you to take a break for a while, at least until after our baby is born. Your people are here, and our warriors are helping them. They'll handle it. You said it yourself, you've got a target on your back. Stay closer to the den or at least don't go out to the camp without me, and let the runners bring you news of what's going on. Your grandfather and Mama Dragon can supervise the missions without you. Chaos knows who you are, and it knows you're here. Please, Halea. If you won't do it for me, do it for our child," he begged.

Though she hated to admit it, he was right. She had been avoiding going on demon hunts within their territory since discovering her pregnancy, but she was still involved with almost all the other activities of the devotees, and continually running out there was not without risk. Chaos would do anything to eliminate her, and though she was used to risking her life, she now had to consider the life of their unborn child. As much as she wanted to help, as much as the Goddess still called to her, she had to put their baby first. With the progression of her pregnancy, her mobility would decrease, and it wasn't like she could fight in that condition anyway. All the other Tiamet worshippers were there to help, she could afford to take a break until after their child was born.

She sighed in defeat but wrapped her arms around his waist and laid her head on his chest, and he embraced her in return. "All right. I promise, I'll let Mama Dragon and grandfather manage the missions and I won't volunteer for any hunts, at least until the baby's born, and I won't go out to the camp without you, but I may ask you to take me out there a lot. Batsuba said treating the injured will be good field practice."

He instantly relaxed in her arms, and love surged across their bond.

"As long as I'm with you and you don't overexert yourself. I'll take you anywhere you want. Thank you," he whispered into her hair.

"Batsuba did say that I should humor you," she replied with a laugh.

"Wait? Since when does she ever take my side?"

"Never, she still said you're a hothead."

#

One night before dinner, as all the lycans were still gathered in the common area, Varg rose and announced the news of Halea's pregnancy. Howls of joy and shouts of approval rang out, and ale flowed in celebration well into the night.

Halea abstained from the alcohol at Batsuba's behest, but she enjoyed the night just the same. So many of her dearest lycan friends came to wish her well and offer their congratulations. Ulrica, Daciana, and Ralphina were thrilled at the news, and each of them offered to give her any advice she could ever need to raise a lycan cub.

All the males teased Varg once they found out the true reason for his recent moody behavior. A few of those who had mates and children had suspected an announcement wouldn't be long, and some had even taken bets on whether his mate was pregnant or if he was just particularly annoyed by all the increased demon activity. He good-naturedly accepted their ribbing as everyone raised their tankards in congratulatory toasts.

The idea of a half-wolven child left a few in shock as they had never imagined that such a thing was even possible, and some secretly disapproved, though they would never dare say so aloud. Halea expected that a few would be less than pleased, and again she noticed that Lyall was nowhere to be found during the celebration, but she reminded herself of Batsuba's words and tried her best to ignore her disappointment.

As the night wore on, Jance approached her, and Halea could see the distress in her dark eyes.

"Jance, what's wrong?"

"May I speak to you in private?" the diminutive redhead nervously asked.

Halea nodded, and they left the common area to find a quieter spot.

"I...I don't know what to say, I guess," Jance began. "I'm happy for you. Really, I am, but I'm also scared...and envious."

Halea was surprised, but she waited for Jance to continue.

"I couldn't carry our baby, and sometimes I wondered if it was because humans and lycans weren't meant to have children together. Elder Marrok swears that wasn't the issue. I don't know if he'd approve of me telling you this, but he once told me that he is half-wolven."

"What?" Halea practically shouted.

"Shh! Oh, I don't know if I'm not supposed to tell you about it, but I had to say something. Maybe it's true, but if it is, then...I guess it was just me. I'm weak...I..." but unable to continue, she broke into a sob.

Halea's heart wrenched in sympathy, and she quickly embraced Jance, who wept without restraint on her shoulder.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Halea. I don't know what's wrong with me. You're just so lucky, you know...and...I guess I just can't help envying you right now. I am happy for you. Really, I am! I was thinking that Alf and I should return to the north once he comes back for me, but now...I want to see it - if you'll let me. I want to see a half-wolven child with my own eyes."

"Jance, of course. If that's what you want, then you're welcome to stay. You and Alf, and even Elder Marrok are always welcome in the west. To be honest, I'm scared about this pregnancy. Even Batsuba's never delivered a half-wolven, and we don't entirely know what to expect, but I promised Varg I wouldn't go on any more demon hunts until after this baby is born. Until then, I can only pray to the gods that things will be okay."

Jance wiped her eyes as she recomposed herself. "I think you can do it. You're so strong. I've never met a woman as strong as you are. You were even a warrior before you were an alpha."

"I don't know if that kind of strength has anything to do with pregnancy. For now, I'll have to rely on the strength of others. It's going to take some getting used to."

"I doubt I can be of much use, but if there's anything you need, anything at all – you can always come to me," Jance offered with sincerity.

"Thank you," Halea replied while resting a comforting hand on her friend's shoulder, and together they returned to the celebration.

#

The next morning Halea arrived at the refugee camp with Varg and her grandfather. Varg had only accompanied her to ensure her safety while away from the den and had left her to share the news with her friends in private while he went to check on the camp's sentries, and her grandfather excused himself to speak with Samuel who had just arrived with his acolyte, Jennifer.

Apparently, news of Halea's pregnancy had spread like wildfire and already made its way to the refugee camp. A few were stunned and didn't know what to think, but most had already accepted that Halea's new way of life among the shifters was far from conventional, but it suited her, and so they were happy for her. Those who disapproved remained silent and reproachful, but Halea had anticipated that some would hang onto their prejudiced ideas. It was enough that her closest friends were with her.

Mama Dragon approached Halea with Rufus perched on her shoulder. The falcon bobbed its head excitedly at the sight of Halea, and she suspected he was dying to say something but was maintaining his animal form for the sake of his anonymity.

"Wow, so, I heard the news," admitted Mama Dragon.

"I was hoping to wait until Kalee and Samesa got back, but lycans are a bunch of gossips," she confessed while suspecting that it was Aatu who opened his big mouth before she had the chance to make the announcement herself. He was currently stationed as a sentry, and no doubt, Varg was giving him a scolding for spoiling her surprise.

"I'm happy for you, Halea," Mama Dragon said while offering an embrace. "You'll be a wonderful mother."

Halea returned her hug and felt reassurance at her words. Mama Dragon had always acted as a maternal substitute for her own mother, and it was comforting to know that she was near during her pregnancy.

"I'm nervous, though," Halea confessed. "It's not exactly a good time, and I don't know if I'm ready. I don't have a clue what I'm doing."

"Those feelings are all normal, I promise. Everything will be okay, and if there's anything you ever need, you can always talk to me. I am the only priestess here who knows what it's like," Mama Dragon offered, and it was true. Most priestesses swore their oath when they were still young, before marriage or children, and thus would never experience motherhood, but Mama Dragon had not become a priestess until much later in life after she had already lost her family. She knew firsthand exactly what Halea was going through, and sympathy poured through her eyes to see such uncertainty in the younger woman before her.

"I'd like that. Ever since I found out, I've been missing my mother so much. I know I can turn to my she-wolf friends and Batsuba for all kinds of advice, but I don't know, it feels different with you. You've been looking out for me since I was a child. You don't know how relieved I am that you're here."

"I'll always look out for you, Halea," Mama Dragon promised, then leaned in to whisper. "Rufus is also very happy for you."

"Thank you, Rufus," Halea replied to the falcon on Mama Dragon's shoulder. Normally, she'd have offered him a head scratch, but she refrained as she had to remind herself that he was actually a therian and that it might be awkward to be so forward with his animal form, but he bobbed his head and squawked when she smiled warmly at him.

#

As Varg reached the edge of the refugee's camp, he found Aatu at his post, but he was surprised when he also found Hemming and Faolan, who were not on assigned duty, and with them was the cleric they called Alec. They were standing around with bows and arrows firing at targets out in the distance.

"Is this how you spend your guard duty, Aatu?" Varg asked as he gave the beta male a stern look causing Aatu to lower his head in apology.

Alec, quickly sensing an uncomfortable tension, decided to speak up. "It was my idea. Aatu has been keeping watch, and maybe it's not allowed, but I started keeping him company while he was out here."

"The human's a good shot with the bow. No harm getting a little target practice in and if any demons try to get through our defenses, some long-range weapons will teach them a lesson," added Hemming, who, when made aware that Aatu and the cleric were practicing their archery, was not about to be excluded when it came to his favorite sport.

"I'm just here to make Aatu's life a living hell," added Faolan with a wicked grin. Hearing them go on and on about the skill of bow-hunting wasn't particularly interesting, but he enjoyed seeing the three archers compete, and he had done more than his fair share of encouraging and heckling.

"Just don't slack off. If so much as one demon gets through, I'll have your asses," Varg warned, but despite his threats, his friends were excited to see him there, and it wasn't long before everyone was showing off their archery skills.

Varg was pleased to see that his people were getting along so well with the humans, and he couldn't help but reminisce on how different things had been the year before. It was hard to believe how much had changed, but unlike some, he did not fear change for the better.

He looked forward to the birth of their first child as the start of something wonderful and new, but always when his joy was at its zenith, the red-hot stab of doubt and fear would assail him.

What if something happened to Halea? What if he lost her? What if he couldn't go on and their child suffered the way his father made him suffer? He had to be strong to protect the ones he loved, and he hoped that perhaps this was all a part of the wolf gods' plans. They had blessed him with the skill to wield the Fang and chosen him to be the defender of his people. Surely that must include his mate and child? Was he being tested? He couldn't be sure, but one thing was certain; he could not fail.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -
> 
>  **A note from your humble author** : Uro took the news about as well as to be expected. What do you think? Will he live long enough to be a great-grandfather? Anyone wonder why Otsana only has a message for Halea? MWAHAHAHA, Of course, Varg is smothering poor Halea and driving Batsuba up the wall, but he does have a lot of stress on his shoulders, and more than Halea even knows about. Poor Jance is jelly, but we did get some interesting news about Marrok. What do you think, is he really a half-wolven? So much going on, a baby on the way, AND the end of the world, so, good times. Next chapter, more of our favorite angsty dragon boy. Will he finally give us some answers? You'll just have to wait until next chapter to find out. Same bat time, same bat channel!
> 
> As always thanks for reading. Please let me know what you think of the story so far and I love hearing your theories about what's about to happen. :)
> 
>  


	17. The Eyes of Evil

Rufus delivered messages to Samesa from Mama Dragon about the increased activity of Chaos and the losses they had sustained. Samesa was deviated by the news, but not surprised. Subduing the tears and demons in the south had taken far longer than anticipated, and even her assigned party had lost two clerics before she was able to return to the western lands.

Upon her group's return to the refugee camp, Samesa was pleased to find that Codeon had finally joined them, and the two devotees shared a warm greeting.

"Is Edmond here too?" asked Samesa.

"No, I couldn't persuade him to leave Antherose," Codeon regretfully replied with a look of sadness in her dark exotic eyes.

Samesa shook her head. Edmond had always been quite sensitive, and his devotion to their fallen comrade did not come as a surprise. Those two had once been very close.

"Mama Dragon kept me posted on all the casualties and Chaos activity while I was away. I'm so sorry I wasn't here. What else has been going on?"

"Well, one interesting thing has happened. I suppose you haven't heard yet."

"Heard what?" asked the priestess.

"Halea is pregnant with that wolf shifter's child," Codeon exclaimed.

"Really? I can't believe such a thing is possible," Samesa said in surprise.

"Well, I guess it is. But Halea seems happy, and while these wolves are strange, they're treating us well, and they're treating Halea well. That big lycan male obviously loves her. You should see the way he fusses over her now that she's with child," Codeon said with a chuckle.

"That doesn't surprise me. I once challenged him for Halea's life, and I know for a fact that he'd do anything for her. I can't wait to congratulate her."

Though still compelled by the Goddess, Halea had built an extraordinary life for herself among the lycans, and Samesa was genuinely happy for her friend. Samesa tried to imagine what it must be like, but the idea of ever having children was of no interest to her as she was content to live her life in obedience to her oath. There were many different types of happiness in the world, and she knew that one way or another, being a warrior was the life-path that suited her and gave her all the sense of purpose she needed.

Mama Dragon appeared and warmly greeted Samesa, whose face lit up at the sight of the motherly priestess.

"Thank Tiamet that you've returned. Were you able to subdue the last of the tears in the south?" asked Mama Dragon.

"Yes. We had a lot more cooperation from the southern pack this time. They're still a bit standoffish, but I think their new leader has softened them to the idea of accepting our help. Some of them even helped us burry Tim and Marie."

"I'm relieved to hear that at least the wolves weren't giving you any trouble, especially considering there will be more missions. Don't be surprised if you end up having to go back. The frequency of these tears has Master Uro worried."

"He thinks it's coming again," confirmed Codeon.

"The last thing I wanted to hear," grumbled Samesa.

"The last thing any of us want to hear," added Mama Dragon.

The screech of a falcon drew Samesa's attention towards the sky, and she noticed Rufus circling down to land and extended her arm.

"Even Rufus is here to welcome me back," Samesa exclaimed as the sight of the falcon lifted her darkened spirits. "Is that for me?" she asked when she noticed that he was holding something in his beak, and when she opened her free hand, he dropped the object onto her palm. It was a smooth white seashell, but when she turned it over, the inside glittered with a rainbow of opalescence.

"Wow, thank you, Rufus. You always find the prettiest things. Good thing I'm a priestess or this bag would be heavy," she said with a smile while tucking the precious gift into her travel-bag.

Mama Dragon gave her feathered companion a sharp glare but said nothing.

* * *

Summer came and went, and Halea did her best to keep up with her healer apprenticeship despite Varg's protests. Though she couldn't fight, she could help treat those who were injured by demons, and Batsuba was always with her to supervise as she applied her new skills. Halea left purifying the wounds inflicted by the dark weapons to the priestesses because she suspected it would be too much of physical exertion for one who was pregnant, and Varg agreed. The bigger she got, the more he fretted over her, and Batsuba was at her wits' end with Varg's overprotectiveness. He insisted on escorting them whenever they left the den, and the old healer often had to resist the urge to snarl at her hovering alpha. The elder knew it couldn't be helped, as Halea's pregnancy combined with the mounting danger of the Chaos was enough to make any male paranoid and defensive, and so she endured.

"You've been out too long," he grumbled as the two women returned from foraging near the den for herbs.

"I'm fine, Varg," Halea promised as she handed Batsuba her herb collecting basket.

The old healer only groaned at Varg's scolding. It was a daily occurrence. He didn't want Halea getting too hot in the sun. He didn't want Halea walking too far and getting tired. He didn't want Halea to be out somewhere where she couldn't sit because it was getting harder for her to get up off the ground. The alpha had roared in her face the day Halea returned to the den with a slight backache from stooping to dig up roots.

As much as Batsuba hated to admit it, Halea's mobility was decreasing now that her stomach had grown, and soon it would be better for the human woman to take leave from her apprentice duties. The old she-wolf knew that Halea would protest, but it was also for her own sanity because she couldn't handle much more of Varg's alpha temper.

Varg had many anxieties. Over the summer, the tears were a constant occurrence, and several more lives had been lost to demon attacks. The servants of Chaos were also disrupting the herds, which the lycans depended on for their food, and the hunters were beginning to have to spread out further and remain away from the den for longer to ensure they brought home enough meat for the entire pack. Priestesses, clerics, and many of the lycan's best warriors were often sent out on demon hunting missions, but no sooner would they return, then more runners from the other packs would arrive, calling them back again. Eventually, many of the priestesses and clerics stopped bothering to return to the west and chose to remain in the other territories, but runners were continually sent to keep Varg informed about the status and safety of the other packs. The news was rarely encouraging.

Sometimes, between his alpha duties, and while Halea was busy with Batsuba, Varg would retreat to the lake closest to the den in solitude and practice his swordsmanship with the Fang. It would have been more beneficial to have a sparring partner, but even alone, he could focus on form and stance. The knowledge and skill bestowed upon him by the gods were still with him, and for that, he was grateful because he needed to be ready to challenge any foe that dared to take Halea away from him, be it demon or dragon.

The wolf gods had chosen him as their champion. They had a higher purpose for him, and when alone, he would pray for their guidance and strength. If he served their will and used the Fang to protect his people, perhaps he could somehow avoid the threat of the Swordmaster's prophecy. He tried not to get his hopes up about the possibility because Corbin's visions seemed so absolute, and the gods could be cruel, but inside, he wanted to believe that all wasn't yet lost, that he was still being tested. Prophecy or no, he had offered himself the wolf gods, and he would server their will.

In a few more months, their child would be born, and Varg was filled with a mixture of excitement and dread. Everything he loved was at stake, and the thought of losing Halea and being left behind was nearly driving him mad. Thankfully, Halea only interpreted his terror and despair as nerves due to this being their first child and all the increased demon activity. He carried the burden of the prophecy alone, and only by forcing himself to focus on becoming stronger was he able to hide the extent of his fears from his mate.

The first time Varg felt the new life beneath his hand, he knew he could never give up. They had been walking to their treehouse one night after an evening spent around the fire pit and Halea stopped and clutched her stomach with a pained expression, but before he could panic, she grabbed his hand and placed it over her stomach, and there, he felt the strong kick of their unborn baby. Varg's face lit up in exhilaration as he met the eyes of his mate.

"Ow! Kicks like a mule, and I'm blaming you for this," she teased, and together, they laughed and embraced, and for that one moment, all the fears washed away, and there was nothing but joy and hope for the future.

His cub would be born healthy and strong, of that Varg was sure, but he was still concerned for Halea. Batsuba warned him that all pregnancies had risks, and he was aware that some women died in childbirth. Such a terrible thought had crossed his mind more than once; that perhaps the prophecy could be fulfilled through natural causes and not some foe. The possibility of Halea dying during childbirth terrified him worse than her dying by the hand of an enemy. An enemy he could fight, but against the forces of nature, he was helpless.

Varg knew he was being obnoxiously overprotective, but he didn't want Halea taking any undue risks. He couldn't bear the thought of something terrible happening and being left behind, because more than anything, he feared himself. He feared that his grief would consume him and that he would hurt their child the same way his father had hurt him. As much as he wanted to believe that he would never let that happen, he doubted his strength.

Despite the anxiety about the mounting danger, Halea had never known such love and support in all her life, not just from Varg, but also from her pack and her priestess friends. The long walk out to the refugee camp had become a tad exhausting, and Varg had insisted that Halea not exert herself more than necessary. Thankfully, Mama Dragon came to the den regularly to visit with Halea and offer her words of comfort and encouragement, and if they were not out on a mission, she would often be accompanied by Kalee or Samesa.

Kalee had been beyond thrilled when she learned of Halea's pregnancy, but she was also saddened as well.

"Maybe there is hope for happiness after abandoning one's oath," Kalee had commented.

"It's hard when you still feel the call," Halea admitted. "I can't help staring into the west at times. Tiamet never really lets us go."

"That's what I was afraid of," Kalee replied with a sigh as she rubbed her moist eyes. "Without Lord Anshar, I can't escape this immortality. Not without doing something drastic, and I'm too much of a coward for that. Believe me, I've thought about it. There's no point in abandoning my oath. I could never have what you have, and if I tried, eventually I would have to watch the ones I love grow old and die. I've had more than enough of being left behind...alone."

Halea wrapped her arm around her friend's shoulders as she poured out her grief. She could only imagine how awful it would be to lose the ones you loved to the sands of time, and she unconsciously rubbed her hand across her stomach and gave thanks that her child would surely be immortal, and that time would never tear them apart.

* * *

"It's coming, isn't it?"

Uro grew silent as they walked away from the common area and out towards the tree where the dark mirror waited. A harvest moon hung heavy in the sky and illuminated the dry leaves that littered the forest floor.

"Everyone's talking," Halea went on. "The tears, the demon attacks, it's getting worse all the time. I know you've been tracking the tears since you came here. Always the cleric."

"Yes," he confessed. "I didn't want to frighten you – not now."

Halea sighed and stopped mid-step to place her hands on her aching lower back. To her surprise, her grandfather passed her his staff, but she waved her hand in refusal. He needed it far more than she did. The kindness of the gesture was not lost on her, but it didn't do much to help her argument that she was not so fragile that she couldn't handle the truth.

"We're running out of time, aren't we?" she asked.

"That's why, tonight, I cannot fail," he replied.

Uro visited Lord Anshar regularly in Halea's place, but little progress had been made. Some days Lord Anshar was incoherent with madness; other days, he was silent. Often, he called out for Halea, and when Uro refused to yield to his demands, Lord Anshar would become hostile and withdrawn. There had been a few occasions when Lord Anshar seemed lucid enough to hold up his end of a conversation, but the more questions Uro asked, the more Lord Anshar's grip on reality would slip away as if the truth were too much to bear. He had seen something within the Chaos, of this Uro was sure, but with every attempt to force the Dragon Lord to recall the encounter, the madness would grip him.

"If he doesn't talk, we're doomed," Halea lamented.

"I have a plan, but you may not like it."

"I suppose you're not going to tell me this plan?"

"No, because it may not work, but if it does, I may have to ask you for your forgiveness later," he explained as they finally reached the winding stairs that led up into the isolated tree.

Halea's brow furrowed at her grandfather's words, but she nodded her head as he ascended the stairs. She would agree to anything if there were even the slightest chance of getting the information they desired. Halea trusted her grandfather to interrogate Lord Anshar in her place, especially since her pregnancy began to show. She didn't dare appear before Lord Anshar in her present state for fear that it would drive him further into madness, and speaking with him at the best of times had been upsetting enough.

"Lord Anshar, may I speak with you?" asked Uro after entering the room, lighting a few candles, and having a seat in front of the dark mirror. He gently removed a cloth-bound item from a leather satchel that he had brought with him.

Candles flickered dancing light across the dark surface of the mirror as a slight breeze battered the branches of the tree against the dwelling, but there was no reply.

"You must be very lonely in there, Lord Anshar. Allow me to read to you form the sacred text," Uro offered as he unwrapped the cloth-bound item to reveal a well-worn tome. "I'm sure these holy words will comfort you in your…"

"Don't you dare," growled Lord Anshar from within the mirror.

"But, Lord Anshar…"

"I will hear nothing of Tiamet!" he snarled.

"Then perhaps we can discuss something else," Uro offered as he rewrapped the tome and placed it back in the bag.

"You waste your time by tormenting me with your repetitive questions."

"No questions," Uro replied. "I just thought you'd like to hear about what's been going on since you've been gone."

"I don't care!"

"That's a shame, I was going to tell you about how Halea's been doing, but if you don't care…"

"Halea?"

Uro picked up the satchel and rose from his seat and went to grab his staff when again, Lord Anshar's voice rose from the mirror.

"Wait! Where is Halea? Is she okay?"

Uro stood with his back to the mirror, his hand reaching for the door as a sly smile slid across his craggy face. "I thought you didn't care?" he asked over his shoulder.

"The only thing I do care about is Halea. I want to see her again. Why doesn't she come to me anymore?"

Uro propped his staff against the wall and turned back to the mirror and reclaimed his seat.

"She doesn't come because you will not help us, and it breaks her heart. But perhaps I can persuade her to come see you again. I am an ailing man, not long for this world, and I'm sure she would humor the request or her poor old grandfather. That is if I should choose to ask her."

"Then ask her!"

"No. I think not. You've made it abundantly clear that you wish for the Convergence to come and swallow us all. If you will not help us, then why should I help you?"

"What do you want, old man? Do you want me to kill her? Is that what you would ask of me? A sacrifice? Your own flesh and blood! I thought you loved her?" growled Lord Anshar.

"I do love her, and I don't want her to be the sacrifice. That's not what I'm asking. All I seek is knowledge. You have heard things, seen things, from within the Chaos. You said you saw eyes. The eyes of who? I must know what lies within the Chaos. Even before you threw yourself into the convergence, you once believed that there was a sentient entity controlling the rift between our dimensions. You were right, weren't you? Tell me what you saw!"

Flashes of darkness and terror began to cloud Lord Anshar's perception at Uro's words, and he snarled in anguish. "No!"

"Then I will tell Halea that there is no point in ever seeing you again," Uro threatened as he once again rose from his chair.

"No! Stop!" Lord Anshar roared.

"Lord Anshar, I know you're in pain, but please, you must remember what you saw. Tell me!"

Reluctantly, Lord Anshar sighed in defeat before closing his eyes as darkness swirled around him, and the voice from his memory boomed from within.

_You must remake the world, or you will never be free!_

He remembered fighting his way past the voice and into the deepest folds of the void that lay beyond, and there within, he saw the eyes of a dragon.

"A dragon!" Lord Anshar cried. "I saw its eyes. The red eyes of a god! I felt his presence!"

"A god? A dragon god?" Uro gasped.

"The false god. It can't be anything else," Lord Anshar lamented.

"Zernebog," Uro uttered the cursed name with a shudder. "So, he has been trying to break through the dimensions to reenter our world."

"But why? Why didn't he kill me? If he wants to end the sacrifices, then my death would have been the answer," cried Lord Anshar.

"Maybe he wants more than just to return. Maybe he wants revenge against Tiamet for casting him out of heaven. You are her most beloved. Corrupting your mind and soul and turning you from Tiamet would inflict unbearable suffering upon the Goddess. Maybe that's what the false god wants."

A growl rose from within the mirror that caused it to shake upon its stand.

"Tiamet, that bitch! She must have known that this was Zernebog all along, but why wouldn't she tell me? Why would she keep this from me?"

"I don't understand it either, Lord Anshar. She must have had her reasons. I must reflect upon this information, but I will return," Uro said as he rose and gathered his things.

"No! You promised that I would see Halea. I want to see her now! I have given you what you want. Keep your word!" Lord Anshar snarled.

"I will keep my word and ask her to visit you, but not tonight. Convincing her to come may take some time, but I promise she will be the next person you see."

Uro could hear Lord Anshar growling and cursing in rage as he closed the door behind him, but he ignored it as he descended the stairs.

Halea looked up at her grandfather with hopeful eyes, but her face darkened when she noticed his pained expression.

"Grandfather, are you okay?"

"Lord Anshar has finally given us the answer we seek, but it's grave news indeed."

"He actually told you? But what is it? What's wrong?"

"It seems we are up against a god," he replied.

"A…god? Who?"

"Zernebog, the black dragon. The god of death," Uro explained. Zernebog was known to the worshippers of Tiamet as he was the god who had proven to be false and unjust, and after committing some insult upon Tiamet, she had cast him out of heaven. When the convergences first appeared, Zernebog had been suspected, but Tiamet had remained silent, even to her own grandson, and so the devotees were forced to dismiss the possibility. After all, how could Tiamet fail against any lesser god? Surely, if it were another deity, the Great Dragon Mother could have easily used her power to cast them out for good. If the convergence had been a threat from another god this whole time, why would the Goddess hide the truth from her followers? Uro had his suspicions that maybe another god challenging Tiamet and her creations would cause people to question the absolute nature of the Goddess's powers. Perhaps that's exactly what Tiamet wanted to avoid.

Halea stood in stunned silence as her heart collapsed into despair. A god? How could they fight a god? It was impossible. Like her grandfather, the possible reasons behind the Goddess's silence sickened her. Was Tiamet truly not all-powerful enough to save them? She couldn't bear to believe it less all her final hopes be dashed.

Halea's brow furrowed as a thousand new questions surfaced in her mind, but then one question stood out to her above all the others, and she wondered why she hadn't thought of it before.

"I remember all the old dragon gods, but it just occurred to me…Morigan is the God of Death now, isn't he?"

"The Great Crow? Yes, but he wasn't the first god to hold that title. It was given to him by Tiamet after Zernebog had proven unworthy," Uro explained.

As it was told in the sacred text, Zernebog was malevolent and jealous. All that the gods created, he wanted for himself, and if he couldn't have it, he sought to destroy it. He relished chaos and death and was a bringer of suffering upon all that Tiamet loved, and so she stripped him of his sword and his title and cast him out of heaven, and that was why he was known as the false god.

"It is said in legend that Tiamet passed on the sword to a more worthy god, one who was impartial and fair and who had respect for the living and the dead, the Great Crow, Morigan. But, as devotees of the Goddess, we generally don't concern ourselves with the duties of the lesser gods," Uro continued.

"Abaddon," Halea said.

"What?"

"Varg said the name of Corbin's sword was Abaddon. Corbin is the son of Morigan, and the sword was entrusted to Corbin by his father, the God of Death. Corbin guides the lost souls of the dead to purgatory where the gods may claim them, and if they're not claimed, it's Morigan who leads them to oblivion. Abaddon must have once belonged to Zernebog!"

"I know nothing about the progeny of the lesser gods. And how is it that your shifter husband has such knowledge?"

"Corbin was Varg's Swordmaster. He once took Varg to purgatory so that he could visit the heavenly realm and speak to the wolf gods."

Uro just stared as his granddaughter in opened-mouth shock.

"Yeah, I guess I should tell you all about that. Better yet, let Varg tell you. It's his story."

Uro shook his head and sighed. "I must pray to Tiamet on all this. You must pray, too, Halea. The Goddess has spoken to you before, perhaps she will listen to you."

"Tiamet hasn't spoken to me since she helped me capture Lord Anshar," she replied, then paused. "How did you convince Lord Anshar to open up to you?"

Uro nervously looked aside and cleared his throat. "I had to bargain with him. I suppose I must now ask for your forgiveness."

"What did you do?" she asked in a stern tone as her eyes narrowed.

"I promised Lord Anshar that if he told me the truth about what he saw within the Chaos, that I would convince you to visit him. I told him that you would be the next person he sees."

"What?" she shouted. "Grandfather, how could you? Look at me! He'll go mad! More mad! I can't see him like this!"

"I'm sorry, Halea. Forgive me. You were the only thing he wanted. The only thing that drew his mind from his madness. We're running out of time, and it was the only advantage I had. If we wanted answers, there was no other choice. Please, I know you don't want to go to him right now, but I gave him my word, and if I break it, we may never be able to save him. We need his trust."

Cold sweat dripped down Halea's back at the mere thought of revealing herself to Lord Anshar during her pregnancy, but her grandfather had given his word, and she been willing to pay any price. Now, there was no choice.

"I'll go to him," she said in a defeated voice. "But you better be really nice to Varg after this. And stop calling him a shifter!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A note from your humble author** : FINALLY! After nearly 3 books, the big baddie is revealed to be Zernebog the first god of death. The black dragon! So how many recall way back in book two when Zernebog was mentioned among the dragon god pantheon? (I actually had a beta reader tell me to cut that whole section. Uh, no.) Or every time that Edmond has read aloud the sacred text and gone on about a false god? Yep, they are one and the same. And also at the end of book 2 when Lord Anshar saw the dragon's eyes. Nobody seemed to catch that. I was surprised. (Or if anyone did catch it, nobody said anything). Tiamet's true nemesis is now revealed! Well, I guess he's everyone's nemesis. But how will they defeat a god? And why do you think Tiamet has kept all this a secret? Is it all her ego, or is there something more? You'll just have to keep reading to find out. MWAHAHAHA And, yes, I'm sure many of you wanted Lord Anshar's reaction to Halea's pregnancy, well, you're about to get what you want next chapter. :)
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!


	18. Valria

The moment she said, "don't be angry," Varg knew, he was going to be angry.

When Halea shared the news of her grandfather's latest visit with Lord Anshar and the discovery that was made, Varg was overcome with a sinking sense of dread. What hope did they have against a god? What could they possibly do to stop the next convergence that wouldn't cost Halea her life?

And then she told him about the bargains that were made to gain this dismal information.

"No!" he growled as red seeped into the edges of his eyes. "Not now! You will not go to him."

"We promised," she argued.

"No, your grandfather promised, and it's not his place to offer you up to that monster. And for what, to tell us that we're doomed? We knew that much! You don't owe that bastard anything. All he does is make you cry. No matter how much you try to block the bond, the moment you lift it, I can sense that you've been upset. I always smell the dried tears. Always. And if you go to him now, it will just be the same. How do you think he's going to react once he sees that you carry my child? He's just going to hurt you again, and I will not have you getting upset in your condition."

"There's nothing wrong with my condition, and I won't get upset," she said in as calm a tone as she could manage despite her irritation.

Varg scoffed as he paced their bedroom. It was late, but there would be no sleeping until this was settled.

"Varg, please," she pleaded while reaching out and clasping him by the wrist, causing him to halt mid-step. "Batsuba says I'm too sensitive, and she's right. I can't help that, but just because my emotions run deep doesn't mean I'm weak or fragile. Lord Anshar makes me cry, not so much because he says things that hurt me, but because there's nothing I can do to stop him from hurting. He wasn't always this way. Once, he was kind and good and did everything that he could to save our world. If he's a monster, it's because Chaos made him this way, and Tiamet has asked me to save him. That means there's still hope. Someway, somehow, there must still be hope. Saving Lord Anshar is the answer, I know it, but I can't save him by breaking his trust."

Varg sighed while frustratedly running his fingers through his hair before taking a seat beside his mate on their bed.

"Promise me, you won't let him make you cry. The moment he starts mouthing off, you'll leave. The agreement was that he'd see you. Nobody stipulated for how long, and if he gives you any shit, you walk out."

"I promise," she said while resting her head on his shoulder and sensing the ebb of his anger, but not of his anxiety.

* * *

The next night, Halea stared up into the tree where the dark mirror awaited and shivered as the cold autumn air whipped her cloak around her ankles. She hesitated at the foot of the stairs while attempting to steady her nerves. No matter what happened, she could not break her word to Varg, and with a determined breath, she began the climb.

When she entered the single-room structure, she contemplated not lighting the candles. Perhaps her voice would be enough to appease the dragon, but something inside her wanted Lord Anshar to see her. Maybe if he finally saw the proof that she was Varg's, he would relinquish his unrequited affections and accept that she was happy.

"Lord Anshar, it's me, Halea. I came to see you," she called out after lighting the candles. The chair before the mirror was low and so she decided to remain standing to avoid any awkward attempts to get back up again, and because it would be easier for Lord Anshar to see her this way.

"Halea? Is it you? Sometimes I hear your voice, but you're not really there. I don't know what to believe anymore."

"It's me, Lord Anshar. Grandfather asked me to come visit you. Can't you see me?"

The dark surface of the mirror shimmered like a mirage before shifting to reveal Lord Anshar from where he stood within the other dimension. And then their eyes met, and she heard him take in a deep breath.

"Halea…you're…"

"Yes," she confirmed while refusing to look away as his face darkened, and his hands trembled as they balled into fists at his side.

"I see. So, this is why you've stayed away," he growled.

"Partly. I am the Supreme Wolfmother of the lycans and an apprentice to a master healer, and I've been helping the priestesses battle the Chaos, though more strategically than physically at the moment. So much is happening all at once, and I figured…you would hate me if you saw that I'm pregnant with Varg's child."

"You're wrong," he said, and her eyes widened in shock. "I hate him, not you. I hate him for touching you. I hate him for claiming you. And I hate him for giving you the child that should have come from me. But I don't hate you. No matter how many children you give him, you are still you. That will never change, and it's you that I love."

She placed a hand over her protruding stomach and struggled to fight back the sadness and disappointment the engulfed her at his words, but remembering her promise, she steeled her nerves and met his gaze once again.

"You once told me to be happy. I guess that doesn't matter to you anymore?" she asked, and he turned his head in shame.

"Well, I am happy. I love Varg. I love our child. Here I have a home, a people - family. I have thought about what my life would have been like if I had never met Varg when we were children. Would I have loved you instead? I don't know. I wanted to be close to you because you always seemed so lonely, so sad. I wanted you to be happy, but there was always that distance you kept between us. If your hatred for Varg hadn't sparked your jealousy, I don't think you would have ever confessed your feelings for me. You would have kept me at an arm's distance and fulfilled your duty and struck me down – and none of us would be in this mess."

"That's not true!"

"It is!" she shouted. "If Varg hadn't stopped you, you would have completed the sacrifice."

He tried to shut his eyes and block out the past, but unbidden memories resurfaced. The sound of the barrier being disrupted as the wolf broke through. The Blade That Cuts Through Worlds raised high to strike Halea as she knelt before him, and then the battle that ensued as her lover fought for her life, just as he fought to take it. He remembered her crying over the wolf's fallen body as his life's blood pool onto the ground and the haunting sound of her voice as she begged him to live. He remembered looking down on her, where she lay over the lycan and how his heart constricted as he watched her suffering. She had thrown herself in front of his true form to save that wolf, and he had wished to know what it felt like, if only for a moment, to have that kind of love. Her love.

He clasped the sides of his head in torment as he tried to fight back the memories, but he couldn't block them out. He remembered Halea standing before him, offering her life as the sorrow in her eyes overwhelmed him, and the way his hand shook as he raised his sword. He could see into the depths of her soul as she stared back at him, sacrificing herself, not to save their world, but to save her fallen love.

And that was when he knew – he loved her. He loved her more than anything, and he couldn't take her life.

Lowering his sword, he had reached out and caressed her beautiful face, her tears warm beneath his fingertips. Her heart did not belong to him, but he wanted to forget all that. For just one moment, he wanted to pretend that she was his, and so he stole a single soft kiss from her heavenly lips.

"I died for you!" he cried out as he forced his eyes open, and the painful memories once more receded into the shadows of his mind. It wasn't the whole truth, and he knew it. He wanted his torment to end, and he had hoped his sacrifice would be enough to free them. Being forced to kill the one thing he loved had been the final burden to break him. He had risked everything and failed.

Halea took a deep breath. Varg was right, Lord Anshar knew just how to make her cry, but as much as she wanted to, she couldn't – not this time.

"I know, and that's why I want to save you. I owe you so much. Every happiness that I have now, I have because you chose to sacrifice yourself instead of me. I know what that choice has cost you, how much you've suffered on my account, and I know that you did that for me. I never had the chance to say it before, but thank you."

"Halea," he breathed as her words sent him to his knees.

"I will find a way to save you, and nothing you say is going to make me give up," she promised, and with that, she blew out the candles, and Lord Anshar's image faded from the mirror.

* * *

As the chill air of winter blew in from the north and stripped the last of the autumn leaves from the trees, Halea was forced to relinquish the last of her apprentice duties. Walking had become a slow and arduous task, and her back was often killing her. By the end of the day, her feet were swollen, and she was almost always tired. The baby kicked the fiercest at night, and when it wasn't kicking, she was constantly having to get up to relieve herself or satisfy some craving. Varg rarely left her side anymore, and aside from demon hunts, he had delegated as many of his alpha duties as he could to spend as much time caring for Halea as possible. Halea's comfort and happiness had become Varg's utmost concern, and she did her best to indulge his overprotective nature because Batsuba had warned her that he needed to maintain some semblance of control for the sake of his sanity.

With every day that passed, Halea grew more and more impatient for their baby to hurry up and be born. Her own emotions were in a continuous tumble, shifting from anxiety, to sadness, to joy, to grumpiness, and back to being happy again. Sometimes she would burst into tears at the silliest things, and even with their bond, Varg couldn't always sort out what was going on inside of her. Halea could tell that he felt helpless and concerned, which in turn made her feel guilty for putting him through so much turmoil. But despite their combined volatile emotions, there were quiet moments when they were alone together when everything felt perfect, and they couldn't help but dream about what the future would hold for their precious baby.

The coming of winter had brought changes to the den. It was getting too cold for the refugees to remain in tents, and so several caverns were cleaned out and furnished within their mountains to provide the Tiamet worshippers with more adequate shelter. In another month, the snow would begin to fall, and even the lycans would be forced to retreat away from the harsh weather. This new arrangement brought the human devotees even closer to the lycan's den, and though some complained, most had accepted the necessity of their alliance.

Rarely was there a day when a runner did not arrive from one of the other packs or the howls of danger were not carried on the wind. Varg was regularly torn between his duty to protect the den from the demon invaders and his need to be with his pregnant mate. Priestesses and clerics fought alongside the lycan warriors whenever danger appeared, and tears were always swiftly eliminated, but it had become painfully evident to everyone that the Chaos was only growing worse.

Halea felt helpless and frustrated because she couldn't fight alongside Varg and her friends in their time of need. Being vulnerable and weak was an alien experience for her, but she couldn't take any risks with their unborn child.

Uro took pity on his poor granddaughter and would do his best to bring her news about all the tear and demon activity, so she didn't feel entirely left out, though he knew her mate disapproved. Varg had been particularly angry with the old cleric after Halea was made to visit with Lord Anshar, and though Uro had promised to be nicer to Halea's mate, it wasn't easy. Uro didn't consider Halea to be as fragile as her mate was making her out to be, and so they were constantly at odds about what was best for her and what was not. Halea wanted to be kept in the loop about the activity of Choas, but Varg didn't want her to worry about such things while she was with child.

After Halea's last visit with Lord Anshar, Varg had sought out Uro and made it expressly clear that the old cleric was no longer to upset Halea with news about the dragon until after her pregnancy was over. Uro was not about to be intimidated by that big brute, but it didn't matter. Lord Anshar had slipped into incoherent madness once again, and while he still had many questions for the Dragon Lord, he doubted he would be receiving answers anytime soon.

It was easy to assume why Zernebog had a personal vendetta against Tiamet, but at the same time, it also seemed odd that a god would go to such great lengths just to torment Lord Anshar and destroy the world that Tiamet had built. Uro knew that the gods could be petty, but there was something unusually personal about Zernebog's methods of manipulation, and he suspected that there had to be something else, some other reason behind the false god's behavior. And most importantly, did Tiamet know the truth? If so, how was she incapable of once again banishing the former God of Death? Blessing priestesses and offering sacrifices to fight the convergence seemed beneath the abilities of one who should be as all-powerful as the Great Dragon Mother.

Something didn't add up, and though Lord Anshar wasn't in his right mind, when he did have moments of clarity, he seemed to share Uro's suspicions. Often amidst his ravings about invisible claws and memories of dark voices and shouting for Halea, he would interject accusations at Tiamet for hiding things from him and repeatedly asking, "Did she know?" and "What isn't she telling me?" If Uro dared to pose any further questions, the Dragon Lord would deteriorate into repeatedly cursing the Goddess's name. It was hard for the devoted old cleric to hear such talk, but what if it was true? What if Tiamet was keeping something from them? If that were the case, he couldn't blame Lord Anshar for feeling betrayed.

Though Halea kept her word and hadn't let Lord Anshar drive her to tears during her last visit, she hadn't made any further attempts to speak to him. She was content to let her grandfather interact with Lord Anshar in her place, at least for the remaining duration of her pregnancy.

Varg was also relieved that Halea had chosen to avoid the dragon. It was one less stress for them both.

As the winter days grew ever shorter and colder, the time for Halea to go into labor was fast approaching, and Varg was already at the limit of his patience. He snapped and growled at everyone but Halea and had left the last few demon hunts to his warriors and the priestesses. Even Batsuba was going out of her way to avoid him as his temper had become intolerable.

One day, Halea was standing at the alpha's pit, warming her hands before the fire and listening to Daciana as she explained what the first few months were like after Fillin was born. She often sought the advice of any woman who had more experience with children or pregnancy than her, as it helped her to feel more prepared. Ulrica arrived carrying hot drinks, and the three women sat down and huddled up in front of the fire to enjoy each other's company.

"Where's Daisy?" asked Halea.

"Pestering Fillin," Ulrica replied with a laugh. "I'm grateful that Jance is here to help me keep her out of trouble these days. Without a mate, she's a lot to handle on my own."

Jance was sitting at a fire pit on the other side of the common area surrounded by several small cubs who were listening as she told them stories. Occasionally, she snuck in a few symbols of the lycan alphabet while drawing illustrations on a bit of slate with a talc stone. She had an amazing way of teaching the cubs to read and write without them knowing it, and because listening to the human woman didn't feel like a tutoring lesson, the little ones didn't mind giving her their undivided attention. Even Daisy and Fillin, once bored with their play, went to join the others near the fire where they could listen to Jance tell an amusing story about a fox and a mouse.

From a distance, Halea could tell that it was actually a disguised arithmetic lesson, and she smiled at the redhead's cleverness. It was a shame her own grandfather wasn't half that entertaining. As a child, she would have much preferred to have been tutored by someone like Jance.

"I smell Varg," Daciana said as she nervously jumped to her feet and was joined by Ulrica.

"Call us if you need us, Halea," added Ulrica before the two she-wolves scurried away.

Daciana's sense of smell proved accurate, as soon Varg appeared at the pit.

"Halea, is everything okay?"

Halea sighed as he took a seat beside her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

"You've developed such a reputation for being grumpy these days that everyone's avoiding you. You just scattered all my friends."

"I'm sorry," he said with a look of remorse. "I just can't help but feel tense and on edge all the time these days. I even left the hunt to come check on you."

"I noticed. I'm fine, by the way," she said with an exasperated laugh. As much as she loved Varg, he had become smothering during her pregnancy, and she had rather hoped he wouldn't abandon the hunt so she could have some time to herself.

"I'm annoying you again, aren't I?" he asked with a slightly unapologetic grin. He was more than aware that he had been driving her nuts, but with an extraordinary degree of patience, she had, for the most part, humored him, and he loved her all the more for it.

"Gods, yes! If this baby doesn't get here soon, I'm going to kill you!"

He laughed before rising to his feet and offering her his hand.

"Come. Out of the cold," he gently ordered.

Halea pouted and crossed her arms over her distended stomach. "No."

"Halea," he said in a somewhat more commanding voice. "I don't want you catching a chill."

"I'm perfectly warm here in front of the fire," she argued as she pulled up the hood of her fur-lined winter cloak. "And I'm tired of being cooped up inside all day. I'm going to be trapped indoors all winter. I want as much fresh air as I can get while I can get it."

Before Varg could argue with her, her face twisted into an unmistakable look of pain that the bond confirmed.

"Halea? Is the baby kicking again?"

"No," she replied with disconcerting breathlessness. "Maybe I should go lie down after all."

Varg gently helped her to her feet, and they slowly walked back to their treehouse. Whatever discomfort had seized her seemed to have passed, but Varg was still ill-at-ease.

"Do you want me to call for Batsuba?"

"It may be nothing," Halea replied as he helped her up the stairs and into their home. "It's too soon to tell. Let me just lie down."

He didn't like it, but Halea did have medical training and had served as a midwife alongside Batsuba on many occasions, so he decided to let it go but keep a close eye on her.

Halea curled up in their bed, and he could sense that she wanted him to stay and comfort her.

"I see you don't mind me smothering you all of a sudden?" he commented as he nestled into the bed beside her.

"Don't leave," she affirmed as she rolled onto her other side to face him.

"I won't. I promise."

No sooner had he uttered those words then Halea let out a hiss of pain through clenched teeth and clutched her lower abdomen.

"I guess you better call for her," she finally managed to say after the worse of the spasm passed.

Varg leaped up and left their room, and from just outside, Halea could hear him howling, presumably to summon Batsuba. In the distance, more howls rose, and she knew the message was being passed along.

When he returned, he looked almost frantic, and the bond was a cacophony of intense emotions.

"It's okay," Halea said in an attempt to soothe her mate.

"Is this it?" he asked after returning to her side.

"Probably."

"Probably!" he nearly shouted, but after hurting his own ears, he lowered his voice. "I'm sorry. What should I do?"

"Call for Mama Dragon, please."

He quickly got back up and went outside. Soon the relay of howls would reach the refugee's guards who would translate the message. Batsuba usually worked alone or with Halea, but Halea had begged the old healer to permit Mama Dragon to assist during the labor. Batsuba had once before worked alongside the maternal priestess, and Mama Dragon did have some knowledge of midwifery, and most importantly, she would be a stand-in for Halea's own mother.

When Varg reentered their room, Batsuba was already with him, her bag of supplies ready at her side. With no preamble, the old healer went to Halea and began checking her pulse and feeling along her abdomen. Though Halea was due, there was still the possibility of false labor pains, but only the durations between the spams would reveal the true nature of her condition. In the meantime, she would have to wait and observe, but Varg didn't hesitate to begin voicing his complaints.

"Well, do something! She's in pain," he growled.

"Are you in pain, Halea?" the old healer asked while ignoring her alpha.

"No," Halea replied. "Not at the moment."

"Then we wait, and you," she said, turning back to Varg. "Do something useful and start a fire, and another in your cooking station's stove too. I'll need somewhere to boil water. This can take hours, sometimes days."

With a huff of helpless defeat, he stepped out to fetch more wood and watch for Mama Dragon's arrival.

"You'll have to keep him calm when the time comes," Batsuba warned.

"But who's going to keep me calm?" Halea cried. Now that the time had finally arrived, she found herself trembling from nerves.

"Halea, you'll do just fine. Don't be scared. You're not alone."

Halea took a deep breath and did her best to think soothing thoughts, both for her sake and Varg's. Just as she was about to take in one more deep inhalation, another wave of pain seized her, causing her to groan and clench Batsuba's hand. If the old healer weren't a lycan, the bones in her hand would have been crushed in Halea's grip.

"How far apart are they?"

"I think they're getting closer," Halea replied once she was done writhing from the pain, and Batsuba nodded, feeling somewhat more convinced that this was no false alarm.

They waited together in silence until they both heard footsteps running up the stairs and a knock at the door.

"Enter," Batsuba called, and Mama Dragon came in, her arms loaded with towels, blankets, and an extra water pail supplied by the she-wolves of the den who all heard the howls and quickly went to work gathering the items.

"I think everyone's going to make an event of it. When I was passing through the den, everybody was gathering around the fires, and some of your lycan friends asked me to bring these to you."

"It's not every day that alphas bring new cubs into the den," Batsuba mentioned. "You wait, in a few hours they'll break out the ale and wine and start feasting in your honor."

Mama Dragon handed the supplies to Batsuba, who excused herself to go into the main structure to see if Varg managed to get the stove lit. Now that the priestess was there to keep watch over Halea, she could begin brewing medicine to relieve some of her pain and a few other concoctions that would be useful to have on hand.

"How are you feeling, Halea?" Mama Dragon asked.

"Scared. Nervous. I gotta pee," Halea confessed, and the two women chuckled.

Varg entered the room again, his arms laden with firewood and quickly set to work on getting a fire started in the fireplace. Once he was done, he returned to his mate's side and gently brushed the hair away from her brow. He could sense she had recently been in pain, but despite his screaming instincts, he had forced himself to stay focused on the task Batsuba had given him. He only wished there was more that he could do.

Time moved slowly with Batsuba or Mama Dragon passing from the bedroom structure and into the main dwelling space, carrying towels, buckets of hot water, and things that smelled like medicine. Varg wanted to ask if they needed anything, but he also knew that if they wanted his help, they'd ask. Instead, he focused on comforting his frightened mate. Though Varg couldn't physically feel her pain, the bond made it clear that she suffered, and he felt helpless as all he could do was offer her his hand to squeeze and gently stroke her back after the contractions passed.

As the sun began to set, Ulrica arrived with food. Varg wasn't interested in eating, and Halea could only muster a half-hearted attempt at trying some of the light soup that Ulrica had made. Mama Dragon and Batusba were thankful for the repast as they expected a long and tiring night ahead. After wishing Halea the best, Ulrica gathered up the serving trays and left.

Hours rolled by, and the moon had risen by the time Halea's water broke, and as the labor pains came closer together, Batsuba instructed Varg to help Halea out of bed and to position himself behind her for support as she was lowered into the squatting position.

"It's all right, Halea. I have you," he promised as she trembled in his arms from exhaustion.

Mama Dragon helped to wipe the sweat from Halea's brow with a dampened cloth as Batsuba monitored her patient's progress.

"You're doing fine, Halea," Batsuba promised after noticing that the baby had begun to crown.

Waves of pain and unbearable pressure passed through her as Batsuba instructed Halea to push down, but after several more agonizing minutes of strain mixed with screaming and a fair amount of cursing, her baby was caught by the old healer's waiting hands.

"It's a female," Batsuba announced, and both Halea and Varg burst into tears as a shrill wailing rent the air as the infant protested her first breath of life.

Batsuba cut and tied off the umbilical cord while Mama Dragon helped her with cleaning and wrapping the squalling baby before handing her into her mother's waiting arms.

Halea could barely see her child's face for the tears clouding her vision, but it didn't matter; her new daughter was beautiful, and even Varg was speechless in his joy as he gently touched the baby's teeny hand which instinctively wrapped around one of his fingers.

"Look at her cute little ears!" cried Mama Dragon, who had never seen the pointy ears of a therian on such a tiny baby before. "What will you name her?"

"Valria," Halea replied. Halea had thought to use her own mother's name, but it was a name that carried a tormenting sadness for her, and so they had decided that if it were a girl, it would share the name of Varg's mother, and if it were a boy, it would have been named after Halea's father, Perion.

Though Batsuba was smiling at the joyous occasion, she carried a secret weight in her heart. She detected a faint but worrying scent. It was too soon to tell, but she would keep a close eye on the cub and pray that she was mistaken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A note from your humble author** : At long last, we have little baby Valria! It's a girl! What did you guys think it was going to be? Was anyone hoping for a boy or twins? Sorry to disappoint you. DUN DUN DUN! What does Batsuba know? Or suspect? You'll just have to keep reading to find out. Lord Anshar didn't take the news of Halea's pregnancy as bad as expected, or did he? Uro's lucky Varg didn't kick his wrinkly old ass for promising that Lord Anshar would get to see Halea. I wonder if Varg and Uro will ever bury the hatchet? We'll have to wait and see.
> 
> Thank you, guys, so much for reading! Please let me know what you think of this chapter. I'd love to know your thoughts.


	19. Escape

When Halea placed the squirming baby into Uro's arms, there was a tense moment of silence before a single glistening tear escaped from beneath his spectacles and rolled down his wrinkled face. The young mother stopped holding her breath as her grandfather lovingly embraced the infant who looked confused to be in such unfamiliar arms but vocalized no complaints.

Uro was pleased that the child was named Valria. Even though it came from Varg's side of the family, it wasn't a typical lycan name, but a name derived from the ancient language that meant "beloved." It seemed appropriate as even Theia had chosen to be sentimental and name Halea after the sun.

The old cleric reached into his robes and pulled out a small rune-carved medallion and dangled it before the baby, who reached up to clutch the shiny object in her tiny hands. The talisman did not glow.

Tiamet had not blessed the child.

Uro wasn't surprised. It was just a precaution. He hadn't expected a half-wolven child to be blessed by the Dragon Goddess, and, also, Tiamet's blessings were always random and not something that could be passed along by lineage.

Halea and Varg were both relieved that their daughter wasn't blessed. Valria's life would be complicated enough by her unusual lineage without having to get the Goddess involved.

With that matter settled, Uro went back to coddling and cooing over the new baby.

Varg was standing near, protective to the last, as he observed the tender moment between two kin separated by several generations. Great-grandparents were nothing unusual among immortals, but according to Halea, they were a rare occurrence for humans. A silent ache filled him as he reflected on his own parents. Would they have loved his cub? His mother, and child's namesake, for sure, but he doubted his father would have approved. His father hated humans and had even eaten a few in times of scarcity, and had he known that as a cub Varg had befriended a human, and even grew up to take that same human for a mate, he would have certainly disapproved. This thought saddened Varg at first, but then it occurred to him that hadn't Halea's grandfather faced his own prejudice to their union at first? Yet, here the old man stood, living in peace among the wolves while cradling and cooing his half-lycan progeny with undeniable love in his eyes. Couldn't his own father have changed? Change was never easy, and there many who were set in their ways, but hearts and minds could be swayed, he had seen this for himself as he watched his people slowly learn that Halea was not a threat, but an ally, and then a friend, and in time, a part of the pack, a member of the family. His father hadn't lived long enough to get the chance to know the woman he loved, but somewhere in his heart, he couldn't help but believe that if he had only known her, he would have come to see why Halea was the perfect mate for him.

"Just when you think you've lived long enough to see and experience everything. I give thanks to Tiamet for keeping the breath of life in me long enough to be here for this moment."

"You like her?" Halea asked with hopeful eyes.

"I love her. Thank you for giving an old man one last gift," he replied before turning his eyes to Varg and offering a nod before continuing. "Thank you both. I know I'm not always a pleasant person, but you have my sincerest gratitude for allowing me to come here and enjoy my last days with the only family I have."

Uro had begrudgingly offered thanks in the past, but this time, it was different, this time Varg could sense the sincerity of his words, and it shattered the last of his own animosity. Varg realized that even if a human as old and as set in his ways as Halea's grandfather could learn to accept a people who were not his own and love a child of mixed blood, then surely his father could have too. That thought brought him peace as he returned Uro's nod and accepted his gratitude with a gentle smile.

The next day, Uro returned to his cave for an afternoon nap after having tea with some of the lycan elders in the common area, only to find an unexpected addition to his room. Sitting there before his lit and waiting stove was an armchair and ottoman of similar construction to the one he left behind in Antherose, but somewhat different. Instead of old, musty, moth-eaten fabric, it was upholstered in fine soft leather that gave the chair a luxurious scent. It was sturdy and made of beautifully polished hand-carved wood, but comfortable, and stuffed adequately in all the right places. When Uro sat in it, it felt as if the weight of all the years was lifted from his aching bones, and he sighed in delight as he raised his feet before the warmth of the stove, and before long, he was fast asleep.

From that day on, Varg and Uro were family.

Despite the ever-increasing threat from the Chaos Dimension, Halea managed to experience some of the joys of new motherhood. Her body quickly recovered thanks to Varg's lifeforce, which allowed her to rapidly heal, though she did give herself a few days of rest if only to enjoy the newfound bond between mother and daughter.

Like her father, Valria's ears came to a point, and though somewhat dull in her infancy, it was clear that with time, her tiny fingernails would sharpen into powerful claws. Most lycans, like many babies, were born toothless, with Batsuba being one of the rare exceptions. It was too soon to tell if Valria would have sharp fangs to match her claws and ears, but it seemed entirely likely.

Despite her lycan qualities, Valria shared one glaring early resemblance to her human mother; her eyes.

Halea had rather hoped for a baby with Varg's brilliant blue eyes, but within a few days, the pigmentation developed to reveal a shade of bright hazel-green, much like her own eyes and her mother's eyes before her. Halea was not disappointed though, she liked seeing the blend between herself and Varg, and no matter what color her daughter's eyes or if she grew fangs or not, she was beautiful and perfect.

Even Varg was in awe of his tiny, helpless cub. Her little hands could barely wrap around his larger fingers, but when she was ready to be fed or changed, she could wail with impressive volume. She was strong, healthy, and lively, always squirming about and looking at everything with such curiosity. He was terrified the first time Batsuba placed her in his arms. Valria was so small and delicate, and he simply stood frozen for fear that he could break her or drop her or upset her in any way. To his relief, her cries of protest quickly stilled as she looked up into her father's face and smiled a toothless grin that instantly melted his heart. She was a part of himself and Halea, and he would do anything in the world to protect her, but a silent ache stirred his heart as he dreaded the thought of what could happen if he ever lost Halea. He couldn't hurt his daughter the way his father hurt him, he couldn't. Somehow, he had to prevent such a fate from ever befalling his precious child.

Halea had sensed the sadness and fear from Varg at that moment, but the lovesick look in his eyes as he gazed at their child told her that it wasn't for any disappointment on the part of their baby. Something was deeply bothering Varg and had been for a while. Whenever she asked him about it, he brushed it off as just the stress of being an alpha, or the constant threat of the Chaos Dimension. To be fair, she, too, was afraid about the fate of their world. The reality of their predicament hovered like a cloud over anyone who knew the severity of the situation, and many of the devotees were losing hope.

Shade mimics had begun to attack the devotees on lycan lands despite the wolves guarding the Tiamet worshippers. Their shade mimic scent was harder to detect than a regular demon, and because of that, there had been more than one close call, but thankfully the lycans had managed to stop the deceptive servants of Chaos before any lives could be taken, but one thing was clear; the danger was mounting.

Now that Valria was born and Halea was feeling more like her old self again, the Goddess was once more calling her to fight. Her conflicted heart was tearing her in two as one half longed to never be parted from her child, and the other half burned with an unbearable need to charge out and face the coming storm. Halea did her best to ignore the aching insistence of the Great Dragon Mother and focused as best as she could on her daughter. Valria needed her. Her first priority had to be her child.

Thankfully, Halea did not lack for help. After feeding Valria, if she was stubborn about not falling asleep, Varg would gently rock her in his arms while walking the floors of their home. This gave Halea a chance to catch up on some much-needed rest and seeing Varg with their daughter warmed her heart. At first, he had been unsure, but with every day, he proved more and more skilled at caring for their child, and Halea found something about that to be unbelievably sexy. There were times when she would just watch him holding their sleeping baby draped over his shoulder, and her heart would melt. He would meet her eyes at those times, and love flowed between their bond until they couldn't help but reach for each other.

Getting the hang of breastfeeding had been a little tricky at first, but Mama Dragon was there to coach her until she was comfortable and sure of what she was doing. Even the she-wolves would stop in to make sure that she and Varg were eating and sleeping enough and that Halea had any advice that she could possibly ever need. Several pack members came by just to help with the household chores so Halea and Varg could enjoy their first week with their new cub in peace.

Jance, in particular, was thrilled to come visit and behold the half-wolven child, with her obvious lycan features but the gentle eyes of her human mother.

“A half-wolven baby, so it is possible. And she’s so beautiful! Thank you for letting me stay to see her,” Jance said to Halea, and though she was genuinely happy for mother and baby, a sad regret still tugged at her heart.

Many were happy for them, but there were a few lycans that weren't entirely comfortable with the idea of a half-wolven, though they kept their disapproval silent. It may have been one thing to mate a human, but to mix blood with one seemed to be tantamount to tainting their godly lineage. Halea suspected that her child wasn't beloved by all. Even some of the devotees had voiced their disgust, but they were quickly silenced by Samesa and Mama Dragon, who were not about let anyone speak ill of their friend and benefactor. Halea could only pray that with time, more people would come around to the idea of accepting her half-wolven daughter or at least get used to her, but inside, she knew her child may forever carry the burden of being a part of two worlds. The more Halea thought about it, the more a burning question began to plague her.

One cold winter day, Batsuba was waiting patiently beneath her tree. Halea and Valria would soon arrive for one of the baby's early-life checkups, of which the old healer insisted. The elder she-wolf had prayed that she was wrong in her suspicions, but with every day the truth had become undeniable, and the burden of her discovery wore heavily on her spirits. Batsuba chose to wait outside that day because Marrok was currently inside her tree-dwelling being a nuisance again, and she preferred the cold to another minute of his pointless chatter.

When Halea finally arrived, Valria swaddled abundantly against her mother's breast, Batsuba was surprised when, instead of quickly making her way up into the tree, the human woman stopped the healer in her tracks and fell to one knee before her.

"Halea, what are you doing?"

Halea bowed her head and raised her infant before the elder, and it occurred to Batsuba that this was a ritual she had once performed many times long, long ago in her past, but those days were forever gone.

"Halea, I can't. I'm not a Wolfmother."

"Yes, you are. In your heart, you know you are. One doesn't stop being an alpha. I don't believe that. You told me once that a Supreme Wolfmother shouldn't bless their own child, but that it didn't matter because not all cubs are born to packs with Wolfmothers. But it does matter! It matters to me! I created a life when our world is coming to an end. I brought my poor baby into an existence where she may never be accepted for what she is. Don't you see? She needs all the help she can get. Surely, you're closer to the wolf gods than I? I can't pray to Tiamet for her, not after breaking my oath. Not for a personal favor. Please, I'm begging you."

"Oh, go ahead, Batsuba. The gods won't mind," Marrok called down from Batsuba's tree before descending the spiral stairs.

"Says you!" the old healer grumbled as the northern elder reached the base of the tree.

"She's right," Marrok continued. "You've never stopped being a Wolfmother. Don't think the gods aren't aware of that. Give the poor little cub its blessing. Don't be stingy!"

Batsuba sighed in defeat. Though she hated to admit it, Marrok was even more of an elder than she was, and when it came to matters of the gods, there wasn't a lycan alive with a clearer insight into the will of their deity ancestors than him.

Halea hopefully watched, as at last, Batsuba relented and accepted the offered cub into her arms. A trace of remembrance flashed in the old healer's eyes as she cradled the squirming infant, and a rare smile revealed her gleaming white fangs.

Batsuba began her prayer and called upon the wolf gods in the ancient language, and though Halea held her breath, something passed through her like the wind, but warm and reassuring, and somehow, she knew one of the wolf gods had answered the call.

Batsuba must have felt it too because her dark eyes glistened, and her hands trembled slightly as she offered the baby back to its mother.

But to both their surprise, Marrok swooped in and scooped up the child.

"I shall offer a blessing as well. After all, she is like me."

His blessing was short but sweet as he prayed for the gods to bestow health, love, and joy, and Halea thanked him with tears in her eyes as he handed back her daughter, who was beginning to fuss at the unfamiliar contact.

"Elder Marrok, what do you mean; she is like you?" Halea couldn't help but ask. She had been meaning to question the elder ever since Jance mentioned his past.

"I, too, am a half-wolven. I'm sure Jance has mentioned it to you," he explained with a knowing twinkle in his eye. Halea stood speechless for a long moment before eventually looking to Batsuba, who nodded her head to confirm the northern elder's words.

"Of course, Batsuba has always known. She's one of the few still alive who remembers my brother. I've lived for so long that most lycans have no idea that my father was a human man. They're content to assume that I am as fully lycan as they are, and I see little reason to bring it up. For over two ages, most have been blissfully unaware that a half-wolven has walked among them."

Batsuba looked troubled as Marrok spoke, and Halea recognized the familiar expression of when the old healer remembered something tragic from her past. She often wore the same look when her thoughts wandered to her lost mate.

"Explain what happened to your brother, Marrok. Please, I think there's something Halea needs to know," Batsuba implored.

Marrok nodded and went on. "My mother fell in love with a human man. Supposedly, he was quite intelligent. I wouldn't know, he died shortly after my brother and I were born. You see, it is the lycan male who must forge the bond with his bite. My mother couldn't share her lifeforce with the human man she fell in love with, and so she was left behind when he died. He was her chosen, though. The loss didn't kill her, but she suffered unbearably for hundreds of years until she couldn't anymore, and…well, then she wasn't with us anymore."

Halea nodded with grave understanding before the elder went on.

"My brother and I were twins, though we didn't look anything alike. I resemble my human father, both in appearance and mannerisms. I'm sure you've noticed that I don't quite have the average lycan musculature form. My brother, on the other hand, looked like your average sturdy lycan male, and was every bit a wolf, except for one thing, he had been born mortal. I don't know why my mother's godly gift of eternal life was passed onto me, but not my brother. I suppose a half-human lineage can manifest differently in various individuals," Marrok explained as his ancient eyes grew moist with remembrance.

"He did live a long time," Batsuba added. "A full-human wouldn't have lived that long, but he grew old, and it was strange to see an aged lycan. When I first met him, I thought he had some terrible condition, until I recognized the scent of his decay, so unusual to detect in one of our kind, but unmistakable in a mortal creature. I could scarcely believe it when Marrok explained the truth of their lineage. That is how I knew that humans and lycans could produce offspring with each other and that wolves had chosen humans in the past. Halea, there's something I've meant to tell you…about Valria."

Without a further word, Halea's heart began to race, and her pulse pounded in her ears, nearly drowning out the impending truth before it even left the healer's lips.

"She is mortal," Batsuba explained. "I couldn't be sure at first. The scent of decay is almost imperceptible in the newly born, but it's there. I'm sure of it. I hoped that I was wrong, but with every day that I have examined her, the scent has grown stronger. Valria was not given the gift of Varg's godly lineage. I'm so sorry."

Halea trembled in devastation as tears rolled down her face, and she sensed Varg flying into panic across their bond.

What was the good of being an immortal if you had to watch your children grow old and die before you? That was not the way of things for humans. Parents were not supposed to outlive their children. She imagined her precious daughter growing old and frail just like her grandfather, and a sob rose up from her chest that nearly strangled her on the way out.

"Halea, it's not like regular humans don't…" Batsuba began, but Halea cut her off.

"I know, we die! Humans are mortal, but I'm not! It's me! I don't want to be left behind without her. I don't want to watch my baby grow old and die, no matter how long of a life she gets. She can live a thousand years, she's still my child," Halea cried.

"Perhaps she will find a therian mate to share his lifeforce with her," offered Marrok in sympathy. "My brother never chose a mate, and no female could have saved him anyway, but for Valria, there is hope. Don't let one potential future spoil everything for you. Besides, we're not sure any of us are going to survive if the convergence comes again. Let's face just one disaster at a time."

Halea nodded her head, gleaning some comfort from the truth of the northern elder's words. He was right. The future was uncertain for everyone now, and Valria, being raised among lycans, would most likely find a lycan mate. But there was one thing she knew for sure, and at that moment, she decided it with finality, she would have no more children. She couldn't bear the possibility of creating another life that may grow old and die before her, and if she were to have a son, his fate would be sealed for sure. She couldn't take that risk, and the weight of her choice was enough to make her heart bleed. She and Varg had been dreaming of filling their home so many children, but one would have to be enough.

"Varg is undoubtedly on his way. We'll pick up your lessons tomorrow," Batsuba said before she and Marrok retreated back up into her tree.

Halea tried her best to dry her eyes as she clutched her now sleeping baby tighter in her arms. It wasn't long before Varg appeared and approached her through the trees with evident worry written on his face.

"Halea, what's happened?"

* * *

A week later, Halea was sitting outside at the alpha's fire pit for lunch and tea. The sky was clear, and the snowfall they received the night before had melted away by the time the sun reached its zenith. The air outside almost felt warm, but it wouldn't last, and the lycans were already preparing to move all their communal activities indoors for the remainder of the winter. Her grandfather had finished his tea before her and offered to hold Valria while Halea finished her lunch. Uro was greedy for any opportunity to cuddle is precious great-grandbaby, and it warmed the young mother's heat to see how close those two had become, and as was often the case, by the time Valria was napping, so was her grandfather.

Uro's chin tipped down to his chest, where Valria lay swaddled and warm, and both were snoring ever-so-gently that Halea couldn't help but smile in fondness.

Varg was devastated at the news of their daughter's mortality, and they both shed tears of grief at the possibility that they might someday outlive their only child. And only child she would remain. To Halea's surprise, Varg had agreed with her decision to not have any more children, at least not for the time being.

As much as it pained him to give up on their dream of having a big family, like Halea, Varg couldn't stomach the idea of bringing more cubs into the world if there was a chance that he would have to watch them grow old and die. Varg had seen age and mortality in Uro, and as a therian not used to seeing people die that way, he couldn't bear the idea of any of his children suffering such a fate. Perhaps it was natural that mortal creatures should die by the ravages of time and decay, but it was not normal for lycans to watch such a thing happen to their own children. For Valria, he could maintain hope that someday his daughter would grow up to find a lycan mate who would share his life-force with her, but even that was an uncomfortable gamble because not all lycans chose mates, and that possibility frightened him. Someday, if they survived the coming of the next convergence, perhaps they could reconsider the idea of having more children, but for now he would make protecting his mate and daughter his main priority.

That thought that not all lycans chose mates had crossed Halea's mind as well, but she couldn't allow herself to fall into further despair. Elder Marrok's words were still with her. At the moment, the convergence was the number one threat to their world, and if she didn't find a way to vanquish the false god, then no one would have a future.

Lord Anshar was the key. Halea wasn't sure how, but saving Lord Anshar from his madness had to be the answer. Zernebog was attacking their world for a reason. He wanted something, either from the Goddess or her grandson, and if only Lord Anshar were in his right mind, then surely, they could find the clue to the answer that they were seeking.

Perhaps Tiamet only wanted Halea to save Lord Anshar so that he could continue the cycle of sacrifice, but it was evident that the Goddess was hiding something from both her followers and from Lord Anshar.

Halea had been so lost in her thoughts that she almost didn't hear the howls of danger, but she snapped out of her stupor when Varg appeared before her.

"Halea, there's been an attack. A shade mimic tried to break into the refugee camp. Aatu was barely able to catch its scent in time, but he stopped it before it could kill anyone."

Uro had awakened to hear this news, and his withered face grew pale.

"It sounds like Chaos is getting desperate to try such a stupid thing when it knows we're protecting the devotees," said Halea

"There must be a tear somewhere nearby. I must go out to the camp," Uro said as he passed Valria back to her mother and struggled to rise despite the protest of his aching joints, which had stiffened from the cold and his nap.

"I'm coming too!" Halea declared.

"Halea, we can manage without…" Varg started, but Halea cut him off as fire sparked in her eyes.

"No, I've waited long enough. I'm not pregnant anymore, and I can fight, and so I will."

"But what about Valria?" Varg argued.

"I can watch her!" came a voice, and the alpha pair turned to find that Ralphina had just arrived at the pit with more tea to refill their cups. "I'm still nursing Bardolph, and I have plenty of milk to spare."

Halea smiled at Ralphina's brilliant solution. Of course, everyone in the pack was family, and it was common for she-wolves to nurse each other's children when mothers needed a break or had other important matters to attend to. With Ralphina's help, she could rejoin the demon hunts.

Varg suppressed a growl of protest. As much as he disliked it, Halea had only promised to abstain from the hunts until after their child was born, and with Ralphina's assistance, there was no reason why she couldn't rejoin the fight.

"Oh, Ralphina, thank you!" Halea cried as she hugged her friend and handed her Valria at the same time.

Valria fussed to be placed in unfamiliar arms, but Ralphina managed to soothe her as she watched her alphas and the elderly human cleric set out to face the danger.

Lycurgus had been listening from a nearby fire pit where he was waiting for Ralphina's return with Bardolph on his knee, and the moment his alphas were out of earshot, he approached his mate.

"Ralphina, how could you? You can't nurse that _thing_ alongside our son!" he growled as anger reddened his face. Accepting Halea as his Wolfmother was one thing; she was strong and worthy, but this half-breed child was an abomination, and he did not want it anywhere near his mate or their cub.

"Don't start, Lycurgus. Halea and Varg are out there fighting for our pack, including our son. I don't care what you think about this cub. Valria is a part of this pack, too, which means she's family, and it's my right to support my pack and my alphas however I choose. Bardolph will be fine, I have plenty of milk for both," she asserted before walking past her irate mate and returning to their fire pit.

Lycurgus felt sorry for upsetting his mate, and if it meant that much to her, he wouldn't bring it up again, but inside, he still disapproved of the half-wolven.

* * *

Awakened by the jostling carriage, Maven looked out the small barred window and squinted at the daylight. A couple of rangers guarding the rear on horseback were quietly conversing, and Captain Mark was undoubtedly riding somewhere ahead.

"Where are we?" Maven asked, but her throat was so dry it came out as barely more than a whisper, and the guards didn't hear her. Her wrists and ankles ached from the thicker than average iron shackles biting into her flesh, and she was shivering. It had taken a long while for them to figure out the safest way to transport her to Westvear, where she would eventually stand trial for assisting Lord Anshar in the murder of her fellow priestesses. The carriage was heavily armored, so she couldn't use her strength to escape, but it did nothing to keep out the cold.

Lifting her shackled arms, she reached her hands through the bars as far as they would go and waved them to get the guard's attention. Thankfully, one of the rangers noticed her and rode up to the back of the carriage.

"Water, please?" she begged, and with a begrudging sigh, the ranger reached for his waterskin and passed it through the bars.

"Where are we?" she asked as soon as her thirst was quenched.

"About halfway between Antherose and Westvear," the ranger replied as she passed the waterskin back through the bars.

"When will we stop again?"

"What is she on about?" a man's voice barked from beyond her vision, and her guard nervously backed away as Captain Mark appeared on his horse.

"Can't we stop? Please, I'm going to be ill."

"There's an abandoned village just up ahead, we'll stop on the outskirts as soon as we get there, but we're not staying long in that accursed place."

Maven tried to recall the villages between Antherose and Westvear when suddenly an idea came to her.

"Is that the village that was raided by demons late last fall?" she asked.

"That's the one. Nobody will return because you, Tiamet worshippers, never got rid of that tear. It's still there. Nobody wants to go anywhere near that thing."

"I can seal it. We're passing through anyway. Please, let me perform this one last service. I'm in irons, and you've got plenty of guards, so it's not like I'm going anywhere."

Captain Mark fell silent, and Maven nervously watched his stony face, her stomach clenching in knots as he internally debated her proposal.

"I suppose there's no harm in it, but don't think you'll get any extra consideration when you go to trial for doing what your kind was already supposed to be doing."

She only nodded her head and thanked him, and with that, he rode on ahead once more.

For the past year, she had been rationalizing the events that unfolded at the castle. Lord Anshar had suffered terribly within the Chaos and was obviously unwell, but he wasn't so unwell that she didn't still have absolute faith in him. He said more sacrifice was needed, and she believed that. Sacrifice had always been the way. Tiamet had probably only trapped him within the mirror to save his life. Lord Anshar had been so horribly wounded; it wasn't a fair fight when Halea's dirty shifter attacked him. Somewhere out in the wilds, Lord Anshar was their prisoner – trapped, and it was up to her to save him.

She needed to escape. She had to find Lord Anshar, or everything would be lost, and she desperately began thinking of some way, any way, that she could use this situation to her advantage. Though much stronger than the rangers, she was unarmed and could barely move in her restraints. She had tried using her powers on the iron chains, but they only glowed to no effect. If only she could break her chains while sealing the tear, she could run, but how?

" _Tiamet, please. Help me,_ " she silently prayed.

When they neared the outskirts of the abandoned village, the guards opened the carriage and helped Maven out. The sounds of her heavy chains clanking disturbed the silence and sent crows into flight. To her left, in the distance, she could see the burnt-out remains of an uninhabited village.

The cold air stung her cheeks as she walked with short, awkward steps, a ranger holding onto each arm as they guided her towards the northern end of the village. Captain Mark patiently led the way, and it wasn't long before the swirling purple vortex of a tear loomed before them.

"Don't try anything," Captain Mark advised with a curt nod towards one of the other rangers who held his crossbow at the ready. "Just get it closed so we can get out of here."

Maven nodded in agreement, and her two escorts let go of her, allowing her to move towards the tear on her own.

As she inched closer towards the dimensional rift, a sudden jolt of purification energy struck her with such force that she was thrown back onto the ground in searing pain.

The rangers were shouting, but she couldn't hear them past the ringing in her ears, and her eyes watered from the smell of smoke rising from her body. Rough hands lifted her from the ground where she swayed, and it felt like her hair was sticking up on end.

" _Damn him_ ," she thought. " _Uro must have reinforced this barrier._ " The Master Cleric could construct a barrier that was far more powerful than any other cleric alive and most priestesses too. This barrier had been designed to not only contain the tear but also to purify anything that should try to get in or out. Serving as a High Priestess for almost an age had made her rusty when it came to basic field experience, and she hoped that her blunder had not caused the Captain's faith in her abilities to waver.

"What happened?" asked Captain Mark.

"It's a barrier. I didn't sense it fast enough, but I can get through it. Just give me a moment," Maven explained.

This time she approached with more caution; her hands stretched out before her like someone groping in the dark. She felt the crackling charge at her fingertips and slowly began to work her way around the barrier, removing sacred runes one at a time. Their red marks were painted here and there, and when the last rune was found and broken, the barrier snapped and was gone.

" _Tiamet, please. You must help me_ ," she prayed as she scrambled to think of some way to get away from the rangers. She couldn't run. She couldn't break her chains. The Goddess was her only hope.

She stood before the tear and averted her eyes from looking directly into the void beyond as she raised her hands high and called aloud to her deity. "Tiamet, give me strength." The white light of purification surged forth from her hands and clashed with the pulsing purple glow of the tear, but just as the rift began to shrink, the unmistakable sounds of demons interrupted her, and suddenly all hell broke loose as the servants of Chaos swarmed out.

Noise and confusion were everywhere, mixed with the screams of the rangers as the demons attacked them with dark blades killing on contact. Some of the rangers managed to call upon their elemental spells using fire to consume their foes, or cracking open the ground which swallowed the demons, crushing them within the earth. Some of the servants of Chaos were launched into the air by air-casters with such force that they impacted into trees and buildings where the water-casters then drew moisture from the air and soil to pummel them where they lay.

Maven put up her hands, still glowing with Tiamet's light, and purified any demons that dared to come near, but there were too many, and as she tried to run, she was tripped by her shackles. The moment she struck the ground, a hideous demon with a bulbous body, long spindly legs, and snapping mandibles sprang for her. She shrieked in terror as the creature pinned her to the ground, and the world turned dark before her eyes.

_The first time she saw him: tall, fair, with shining eyes of silver that weakened her knees. Perfect. A god. A congregation of devotees praying to the Dragon Goddess for salvation. A sword that gleamed above a mantle. A sword coated red with blood. Centuries of sacrifices. Centuries of watching him save their world time and again. A convergence looming in the sky and sails billowing in the wind. The citadel aflame. A wretched child, annoying and intrusive. A castle that became a home and an opportunity to be nearer to him, but he only slipped further away – because of that child. Her simpering face that drew his silver eyes without fail. The defiant child, refusing to bow before their Lord. Addressing him with such familiarity. And then, betrayal. Betrayal of Tiamet. Betrayal of him._

The darkness wavered before her eyes, but something was choking her. A green miasma was seeping into her nostrils and opened mouth as she tried to cry out, but no sound escaped. Something flickered within her mind, eyes elliptical and red, then gold and pleading, then red again before a searing pain tore through her head and finally her scream rent the air before she fell still.

The shade mimic slowly retreated from Maven's prostrate form only to be struck with a ball of fire that singed its barb-like hairs. It hissed as it turned its attention to its aggressor.

"Hey, ugly! Fight me!" shouted Captain Mark as he wielded another flame that roared before his outstretched hands. The mimic charged, but the ranger released his inferno which engulfed the spindly-legged demon that writhed and shrieked as it blackened and burned. But just as the creature was turning to ash, a noxious green smoke rose from its foul remains, floating into the tear and disappearing.

Before the Captain could process the horror he had just seen, a searing pain tore through his chest, and when he looked down, a blood-coated dark blade was protruding from his ribs. The sword withdrew with a sickening squelch, and then his life was over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A note from your humble author** : I hope I gave you guys enough squee moments over the new baby. It's really hard not breaking the tone of the mounting danger and suspense, but also needing to write cutesy scenes of Valria turning everyone to mush because you know that's what you want. So poor Valria is not blessed and she's not an immortal, looks like she's going to have a rough road ahead if they survive past this convergence. I never give anyone a break. Not even a baby. What happens next with Maven? Keep reading to find out! Same bat time, same bat channel!
> 
> Hope everyone has a wonderful holiday and thank you so much for sticking with my series though all these books. You guys are the best! Please let me know what you thought of this chapter. Am I balancing the tone between cute baby moments and impending doom? Really, I'm worried about that. I hope I'm doing it right.


	20. Spurned Love

Halea used her knife to penetrate the frozen earth until she found the roots Batsuba requested. She wasn't far from the den, and since the recent demon attacks, lycan guards were even patrolling her preferred foraging grounds. Her grandfather was watching Valria, and she hoped to be back in time for her daughter's noon feeding. If not, Ralphina would make sure that Valria was fed, but Halea preferred to the one to nurse her baby because missing too many feedings would cause her breasts to feel painful and heavy.

It was difficult balancing new motherhood, her apprenticeship, her duties as a Wolfmother, and her persistent need to join the priestesses in their fight against the Chaos Dimension. Between stress, fear of the mounting danger, and the needs of her child, she could barely sleep at night, and Varg had begged her to ask Batsuba for a break or to delegate more of her Wolfmother duties, but stubbornly, she refused. She worked so hard to get to this point, to be respected by the pack, to contribute, to be a good mother and mate, and to heed the call of the Goddess, but Varg was right. It was too much.

As she knelt on the cold ground, her hands aching from pulling roots out of the soil, her breasts leaking milk into her robe, and another howl of warning in the distance – she broke. She gasped and sobbed in defeat and did nothing to hold back the tears streaming down her face.

"Mother. Mother, I wish you were here," she cried as she sat there feeling like a tired mess and a failure. She should have been with her baby. She should have been helping the priestesses. But there she was, crying in the dirt and wishing that her mother was there to help her, to tell her what she should do, to comfort and reassure her.

Varg, sensing her turmoil, was frantically reaching for her through their bond, but she did her best to send soothing emotions, though she couldn't entirely mask her melancholy. Varg had been so wonderful and patient with her since Valria was born. Even though he had plenty of his own duties, he would drop anything to help her if she asked, but that just made her feel guilty for burdening him. She had hoped her moods would become more stable after giving birth, but that didn't seem to be the case, and she was constantly fighting the despair that maybe she would never entirely feel like her old self again. Mama Dragon assured her that such feelings were normal for new mothers and that it wouldn't always be so hard, but Halea had a difficult time believing it. Most new mothers weren't former priestesses who had to stand by helplessly as the world was literally coming to an end all around them. Everyone was counting on her to get through to Lord Anshar, and though they had discovered the source of all their troubles, they were no closer to understanding the cause.

Her grandfather suspected that the false god wanted vengeance against Tiamet for casting him out of heaven and banishing him to the Chaos Dimension. Destroying the world that the Goddess helped to create, her people to whom she had given the breath of life, and her only kin, Lord Anshar, were all a means to hurt and punish Tiamet. It seemed simple enough, but Halea suspected that there had to be more because there was something that Tiamet didn't want her followers, or even Lord Anshar, to know.

"I thought I smelled tears. What's wrong, Human Wolfmother?" asked Elder Marrok, who approached through the trees. He would often take strolls around the den, usually looking for Batsuba, who would go out of her way to avoid him. Noticing Halea's mournful face, he sat on a nearby fallen tree, his long spindly legs stretching awkwardly in front of him for being too low to the ground.

"Elder Marrok, do you know much about the gods?"

Marrok gasped, his face red with indignation before he blurted his ire. "What? You think just because I'm old, that I've literally been around since the days of the gods? What kind of a relic do you think I am?"

"Oh, Elder Marrok, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean…" she tried to apologize, but before she could finish, she heard the old lycan begin to laugh. He clutched his aching sides in mirth and nearly slid off his log.

"Elder Marrok?"

He laughed a while longer, occasionally drawing long gasps of air before falling into another cackling fit. Eventually, he recomposed himself and wiped the moisture from his eyes.

"Forgive me, Wolfmother. I can't make jokes like that with other lycans. They can smell when I'm full of shit."

Halea gave him a stern and piercing glare. She wasn't exactly in the mood to be the butt of a joke, but after a while, the northern elder regained his dignity and replied to her original question.

"All jokes aside, I am old. Very, very old. I remember the world when it was still new when the gods and their first descendants still walked among us. Oh, and I met a few. It wasn't so uncommon back then, and the ones I never met, I heard about them. Especially the world dragons. When they walked upon the earth, all knew about it because they reigned over all, even over the other gods."

"Are you even older than Lord Anshar?" Halea asked.

"Only by about fifty or sixty years. I was practically still a cub when he was born, but I remember hearing about it because the Goddess herself came down from the heavens on the day of his birth. Tiamet had not walked upon the earth for over an age, but she returned when her daughter Lahamu delivered a son. It was said that the Goddess wept tears of joy as she cradled her grandson in her arms."

"She loves him," Halea softly interjected as she recalled the way her grandfather doted upon Valria. She knew just how strong such familial love could be.

"Oh, yes. The clouds parted, the seas were calm, flowers bloomed in every field and meadow, and birds took flight to sing in celebration of his birth. From that day on, Anshar was the apple of Tiamet's eye. She loved him above all others and blessed him and placed him as Lord over her domain. Her hand upon the earth and the voice of her will. And so, he served her."

"If Lord Anshar turned against Tiamet, it would break her heart," Halea lamented. "I'll be that's why the false god didn't just kill Lord Anshar when he had the chance. At least in death, Lord Anshar's soul would have been with Tiamet, but now he hates her, and it's all Zernebog's fault for poisoning his mind."

Marrok nodded his head in understanding. Uro had mentioned the discovery he made with Lord Anshar to him and Batsuba, and it hadn't come as much of a surprise to the Northern Elder.

"I'm sure the black dragon wants to break Tiamet's heart the way she broke his."

"What do you mean?" asked Halea.

"Tiamet is the dragon of heaven, the keeper of the breath of life, and Zernebog wanted her for himself, but she rejected him for she had already chosen Abzu the dragon of the earth to be her mate. This sent Zernebog into a terrible rage, and he tried to destroy the world."

"I know the part about how he tried to conquer heaven and earth by bringing death and war into our world, and so Tiamet cast him out of heaven. That's in our sacred text, but I never heard the part about him being a spurned lover," Halea explained in shock.

"That is surprising. Why wouldn't Tiamet want her followers to know the truth about why Zernebog revolted?"

"Grandfather thinks she didn't want anyone questioning her power," Halea explained.

"So, the all-powerful Dragon Mother cannot defeat Zernebog? That puts us in a rough position."

"She either can't defeat him, or she can, but she won't," Halea spoke with anger rising in her voice as she got up from kneeling in the dirt.

"Where are you going, Wolfmother?"

"To get some answers," she replied over her shoulder as she made her way towards the tree that housed the dark mirror.

* * *

Samesa raised her hands to the swirling purple vortex as all around her, the piercing shrieks of demons being slain and the snarling and howling of wolves permeated the air. Her heart thundered in her chest, but she did her best to not let the chaos around her break her concentration as she called upon the Goddess.

Varg locked blades with a four-armed, black-eyed demon, and in each of the demon's hands, it wielded a weapon forged from the evil of the Chaos Dimension. The metallic sound of the Fang could be heard in its war-song as Varg charged the servant of Chaos without fear. Even though the beast had four arms, it did not have one-fourth of Varg's skill with a sword, and the Wolf King found no trouble in battling back his foe in a series of lightning-fast strikes before severing the demon's head from its body.

Somewhere Halea was in turmoil, her heart aching, and it caused him to flinch as he desperately reached out for her. Every fiber of his being screaming to race home to his mate. She had undoubtedly heard the howls. He could sense that she was overwhelmed and frustrated, and when he explored her emotions, she tried to placate him, as was often her way of telling him not to worry or come running on her behalf. Despite her efforts, he was not pleased with the idea of his mate suffering. As an alpha male, he was a fixer. If there was a problem, it needed a solution, but when it came to their dire situation and the effect their predicament was having on his mate, he was helpless. He didn't like the feeling that he wasn't strong enough to help the person he loved the most, and he offered a silent prayer to the wolf gods as he begged them to stand with him, to give him the power that he needed to serve their will. He was the chosen protector of his people, and with every stroke of his blade, he could sense the will of the gods flowing through him.

Demons fell left and right as the Fang bit into foes without mercy while the tear snapped shut with a sound like rolling thunder, and before long, the last of their enemies were defeated.

Samesa wiped her brow as several clerics approached her in congratulations for successfully sealing the tear. One cleric had an injured leg, but thankfully it was a demon bite and not a cut from a dark blade. He would live. Samesa quickly went to work purifying a fallen lycan before its dark blade injury become fatal. It was a good day when everyone survived. They needed to feel like they had claimed at least one victory as the looming threat of the convergence drew ever nearer.

Varg watched as the devotees and lycans began to make their way back towards the den, but he remained behind. A familiar scent had attracted his attention. He had been noticing it a lot lately when the wind was just right, or, more particularly, when Samesa was available to join their demon hunts.

"You're not going to get anywhere that way," Varg called up into one of the nearby trees once he was sure that everyone else was beyond earshot.

A shadow leaped down from the tree with a fluttering of wings and quickly transformed to reveal Rufus looking embarrassed and unsure.

"I can't talk to her alone. She's always with the others," the falcon lamented as his dark reflective eyes stared out beyond the trees in the direction where Samesa had walked off with the other devotees.

"Oh, give it up already. Why are you still lying to her? Just tell her you're a damn therian already. She'd have to know the truth eventually."

Rufus's dark eyes swirled in horror as he envisioned the brilliant smile fading from Samesa's face the moment he revealed his true nature, and the fear of rejection made his stomach lurch.

Varg detected the scent of the falcon's fear and rolled his eyes.

"I don't know why you're hiding from anybody at this point. So, you're a therian? So what? Who cares? A few of the devotees maybe, but not the ones whose opinions matter."

"Samesa's opinion matters," Rufus added.

"Doesn't seem like she hates therians to me. I say, ta hell with secrecy and just talk to her."

"Well, maybe it's easy for you, you're an assertive alpha male, but it's not so easy for me. Almost my entire life I've been the outsider looking in. Because of my secret, the only person I could really talk to was Sophia. I don't have much experience with people or women. I know everything about Samesa. I've loved her from afar for so long, but she doesn't even know that I exist, and if she knew that I was a bird this whole time, she'd probably think I'm a creep for having never said anything sooner."

"That's a good point. You are kind of creepily stalking her. You're also pretty awkward."

Rufus glared at Varg but couldn't argue because even though it was blunt and painful, it was the truth.

"I don't know how choosing a mate works for you birds, but when a wolf knows, they know. There's no going back. If you don't try, you can only lose," Varg offered with a note of sympathy and encouragement in his voice.

Rufus nodded his head. Perhaps Varg was right. It was better to take the chance, even at the risk of failure, then to never try at all and fail for sure. At least he wouldn't have to live every day with doubt and regret. But even with this realization, Rufus felt his courage lacking.

Varg watched the cascade of readable emotions on the other male's face and sensed the nature of his hesitation. Courage was not something he had ever lacked, and it was hard for him to understand the situation from Rufus's perspective, but he knew one thing for sure; living with regret was unbearable.

"Look, you don't have to be an alpha male to let a woman know that you love her, and with the convergence coming, you may be running out of time. Isn't she worth it?"

Rufus's mouth drew into a stern line as his eyes gleamed in resolution. "She's worth it."

* * *

Samesa arrived back at the camp to discover a bit of a commotion, and she could tell by the excitement that more of their people had joined them. It wasn't long before familiar faces appeared before her, and she was met with warm embraces of reunion. More than a hundred clerics and forty priestesses had been safely escorted through the lycan's northern border. There had probably been howls to announce their arrival, but with the recent battle and her inability to decipher wolf calls, their appearance at the camp had caught her completely by surprise.

"Samesa!" cried Senior Priestess Gwen, who warmly hugged the younger priestess.

"Gwen! Senior Priestess," she quickly corrected in her enthusiasm. "You're here! I was beginning to think you'd never come."

"It took me forever to break away from the capital. The king and his council don't have a very high opinion of us right now, and when I realized there was nothing more I could do for our cause, I gathered every priestess and cleric from the capital and the neighboring towns that I could find, and we set out to find this place. Samesa, are you sure we're safe here?" she asked with a lower voice while leaning in towards Samesa's ear.

"If you mean the wolves, they're fine. They've proven to be useful allies, and their kindness has kept what's left of our people alive during our exile."

"Are…are you sure?" the senior priestess questioned as her eyes darted around their camp while focusing nervously on the presence of their lycan guards. "They're not fattening us up for food?"

Samesa laughed at her senior priestess's paranoia. Gwen's reaction to their surroundings wasn't uncommon. Many of the priestesses and clerics who had never interacted with lycans, or any therians at all, had been initially wary upon their first arrival, but in time, they all had learned that the wolves meant them no harm.

"Halea wouldn't let anything like that happen. She's not a priestess anymore, but she's still one of us, and she's one of the wolves too," Samesa explained, but before Gwen could argue further, a young woman ran up to the two priestesses and dropped to her knees.

"Senior Priestess Gwen? You are her, aren't you? They said you were her. Please forgive me for interrupting, but I've been waiting to meet you for so long. My name is Jennifer, and I'm blessed. I possess the light of Tiamet. I want to serve. I must serve! But there's been no one to make me a priestess now that Lord Anshar is gone. Master Uro said that you were the only one with the authority to speak on this matter. Please! Please, make me a priestess. I want to be one of you! I want to fight this darkness. Chaos has taken so much from me, and if I can't serve as an immortal, at least let me devote what life I do have."

Gwen looked stunned, but a softness eventually passed over her eyes. "And what has Chaos taken from you, my child?"

"My village was attacked, and I lost my twin brother and my mother. My father is still alive, and he's struggling to take care of all my other siblings. Cleric Samuel found me and told me I can help my family best by not adding to my father's burdens and by fighting the evil that killed my mother and brother. I don't care about the risks. I would gladly lay down my life so that others will never have to know the pain and loss that I've endured. Please, can't you make me a priestess?"

Samesa's heart bled at the poor girl's sad tale, and the memory of her own losses to the evil of the Chaos dimension rekindled the fire of her own determination to fight. No matter how much it cost, even if the price was her own life, she would not hesitate to fight until her last breath to save their world. It was the call of Tiamet, and it was undeniable.

"Sure. It's fine with me," answered Gwen with flustered nonchalance. Ordaining new priestesses was not her usual duty, but the girl had a point; with Lord Anshar gone and High Priestess Maven imprisoned, there was no one of higher rank. Other than the inability to bestow the gifts of Tiamet, there was no logical reason for her to refuse.

"Really? Oh, thank you! What must I do?" asked Jennifer, whose eyes shined with glee to hear the Senior Priestess's decision.

"You'll have to swear an oath, and you'll need a robe. I can't give you the immortality or the ability to heal quickly that usually comes with the job, but perhaps I can give you the title," Gwen explained before calling over a cleric who began a search among the other priestesses to see if anyone had a uniform to spare. A robe was quickly found, but nobody had an extra spear. Instead, one of the clerics was able to provide a rusty old sword. It wasn't much to look at, but it had the sacred runes of purification, and it was better than nothing, and so Jennifer accepted it with gratitude.

Word quickly spread throughout the camp that an oath was soon to be taken, and everyone began preparing for a service.

Samesa went to fetch some water to wash up for the occasion. She was still covered in the gore of her recent battle and also needed to use a spell to clean her robe, but as she was on her way to the edge of the camp, a shadow passed overhead.

Rufus squawked in warning that he was coming in for a fast landing, and she instinctually held out her arm.

"Hi, Rufus. Do you have a message?" she asked of the highly intelligent creature, but instead of having something tied to his leg, he carried something in his beak. When she held out her hand, he deposited a smooth piece of quartz before taking off in flight and disappearing into a sycamore tree just past the edge of their camp. Samesa laughed at the falcon's playful antics while tucking the stone into her bag before turning back to her task. Though given a nearby cavern as shelter for the night, during the day they preferred to use the campgrounds they had initially been given as a hub for their daily activities and to not be as much of a burden to the wolves by spending too much time being close to their den. The clerics had set out a few pails of water for basic washing up earlier that day and tossing down her bag and spear she rolled up her sleeves when she noticed that her bag had accidentally dumped out onto the ground. While kneeling to scoop up the scattered contents she noticed that most of the objects were small shiny gifts from Mama Dragon's bird. Shells, buttons, lots of rocks, a few smooth pieces of polished glass, but among all the gifts, one suddenly stood out to her above all the rest.

A small stone that gleamed with flecks of green and orange that seemed to shine like fire.

"Sufur," she whispered to herself as she plucked the stone out of the many other objects, and her eyes turned back towards the sycamore tree. "It…it can't be," but something inside her was calling for her to follow the falcon, and with a careful glance over her shoulder to be sure the lycan guards wouldn't complain that she was leaving without their supervision, she set out towards the tree where Rufus had landed.

"Rufus?" she called up into the tree, but he wasn't in the branches. She could hear something shuffling about on the other side of the tree's trunk and when she stepped around the base, there, sitting at the roots with his knees tucked up under this chin and a forlorn expression on his face, sat Sufur.

"Sufur…how…how did you get here without the lycans stopping you?" she asked in shock.

"They know I'm here, Samesa," he explained while nervously avoiding her gaze and fiddling with his fingers.

"How?"

"They know what I am," he said before standing and leaning against the tree where his height towered over the dark-skinned priestess.

"What are you?" she asked with searching eyes.

"Didn't you think it strange that I was strong enough to pull you away from that shade mimic? Or how I could smell it? I could smell it just like how I can smell you now. I could hear you leaving the camp and coming this way. Even from all the way out here. Well, my scent and hearing aren't as powerful as the wolves, but my eyes can see further than theirs ever could. Don't you get it, Samesa?"

Samesa's eyes darted around her in confusion and doubt, but still, within her hand, she clutched the stone, and she knew.

"Are you…Rufus?"

He nodded, and his eyes scrunched as if in pain.

"I'm sorry, Samesa. It's not that I wanted to lie to you. I just didn't know how to tell you the truth."

"It was you this whole time?" she asked with a note of irritation rising in her voice.

"Yes."

"You…you, big dumb jerk," she shouted, and each word struck him like a stab to the gut, but before he could apologize further, she grabbed him by the collar and yanked him down into a kiss.

* * *

"Lord Anshar?" Halea asked while taking a seat before the mirror.

"I'm here, Halea. I've been waiting for you," he replied, though he did not show himself. For days he had been drifting in and out of lucidity, but when his mind was not his enemy, he had dwelled on nothing but betrayal.

"There's something I need to tell you," they both spoke in unison, but after a pause, Halea continued.

"Is it true that Zernebog loved Tiamet? Is that why this is all happening? Did you know?" she interrogated with anger rising in her voice.

Silence.

"Lord Anshar, answer me!" she shouted, but to her surprise, his image revealed itself within the mirror.

"What do you mean, Halea?"

"Tiamet knew. She knew what was behind this all along and, and she didn't tell us. Why?"

"Halea, I promise you, I don't know, but I've asked myself that same question over and over again since you were last here. This is the first I've heard of there being more to the story than what our sacred texts revealed. Where have you heard this? Has she appeared to you?"

Halea explained what she learned from Elder Marrok, and within the mirror, Lord Anshar's face grew dark with anger as he silently absorbed her words without doubt or question.

"Tiamet…you bitch," he finally growled.

"Don't!" Halea cried in shock to hear him use such language against the Goddess, but his wrath was far from over.

"She kept this from me, from everyone. What else is she hiding? Curse you, Tiamet! Why aren't you stopping this?" he shouted in anger to the Goddess, but if she heard him, she gave no reply, and Halea watched as he helplessly trembled in rage.

"Please. Don't curse her," Halea begged. "I've been asking myself the same question, and I'm afraid of the answer. Perhaps Tiamet deserves your anger, but don't you see? Zernebog wants this. He wants you to hate her because it will wound her in ways that he cannot. Haven't you already played into his hands enough?"

"I have been a puppet to them both. A pawn. Zernebog used me to do his dirty work. The demons were not powerful enough to kill the blessed, so he poisoned my mind and forced me to do his bidding. Their blood forever upon my hands. The fear and horror on their faces. But it's not any different than when I served Tiamet. It was all the same, even the way their eyes pleaded with me. I slaughtered priestesses for them both. I took the blood of the innocent for the false promise of salvation…or the false promise that someday I could build a world in which you could be mine. But there is no salvation, and I see now that it was always Zernebog's intent that once I was done with his dirty work, he would have slaughtered you and then me. I have been used and betrayed by both, but no more. Perhaps having me turn against Tiamet is what Zernebog wanted, but at least in this, he's right. She is not my Goddess anymore. I curse them both."

"Then what will we do? What's left? Is this the end of our world? Is it our fate to perish because we are all caught between the petty squabbles of two gods who don't really care whether we live or die?"

Lord Anshar mournfully avoided her eyes, and Halea bit her lip the fight back the urge to scream or cry.

It couldn't end like this.

“Halea, I can’t save this world. That’s what I’ve been waiting to tell you. I can’t save you. It would have been better if you hated me. I’ve wronged you in so many ways, and I deserve your hatred. I tried to kill your mate and force you to love me, and when I knew I could never have you, I made threats because I wanted to hurt you the way you hurt me. Those things I said to you that day in the tower were lies. I wouldn’t have been able to go through with such evil deeds. I could have never forced your love. I’ve already hurt you enough, but no more. If banishing the convergence means taking your life, then let it be the end of us all, because I can’t be the one to kill you. You’re the only one I could never harm. I’m so sorry.”

Tears spilled from Halea's eyes, but inside the anger dissolved and gave way to warmth as she reached her hand towards the surface of the glass. Deep down inside, she had always known that he never meant all the awful things he said to her. He had lashed out in pain. He was always in pain. For as long as she had known him, he had never been happy, and though they couldn't agree, even now, she only wanted to ease his suffering, and so she laid her palm over the cool glass of the dark mirror.

"It's okay, Lord Anshar. For the longest time, you did your best to save our world. I know that you meant well and that you deserved better than the life you've been given. I really do want you to be happy. Someway. Somehow. I just want you to be at peace. I don't want you to suffer anymore. You may have been compelled to do some terrible things, and you may face judgment for it in this life or the next, but as for the things you did or said to hurt me, I forgive you."

From within the dimension beyond the dark mirror, he could see her entire form standing suspended before him like a pale reflection with one hand pressed forward against the invisible surface of the glass. Her beautiful eyes were weeping, but her face was soft and kind as she smiled gently as if suddenly unburdened from all his sins.

Slowly, he reached out, and though he could not feel her warmth, he laid his palm against the other side of the glass where if not from the barrier of the dimensions, their two hands would have been united. And though she could not see him as he had the ability to see her, he smiled an achingly sad smile to know that she still cared for him just as she had always cared for him, even if he was a damned and underserving monster.

* * *

Maven rolled over and emptied the contents of her stomach onto the ground. Her head was pounding, and her limbs were shaking, and it took her a moment to realize that everything was quiet.

The tear was gone. Bodies of demons and rangers littered the ground, and her white robe was splatter with gore.

" _What happened?_ "

She struggled to sit up, but her restraints were still biting into her flesh, and she was forced to slowly crawl along the blood-soaked ground until she happened upon the fallen body of Captain Mark. The festering black wound in his chest told her everything she needed to know. She quickly began to rifle through his pockets until she heard the jingle of keys, and she offered up thanks to Tiamet while unlocking her manacles.

The flesh of her wrists and ankles was red and blistered raw, but at last, she could stand and move without restraint.

"Thank you, Tiamet. Thank you," she prayed between sobs of relief. Truly, this had been a miracle.

And then the world spun, her vision going white as the gentle face of a beautiful therian woman with weeping golden eyes appeared before her.

 _Release him_.

"Tiamet, is that you? Help me, Tiamet, I don't know how," but instead of answering her cries, the face of the Goddess vanished, and suddenly she found herself standing within Lord Anshar's castle, in the infirmary. Screams of the mad echoed beneath the vaulted ceiling, and there, slouched in a chair, next to Cleric Edmond, who droned on from the sacred text, was an unfamiliar woman. She cautiously approached, afraid to be seen, but the nurses ignored her presence, and though she drew nearer, the Edmond never looked up from his tome. Something compelled her to observe the face of the woman beside him.

Her dark blond hair was streaked with grey, and her vacant eyes were hazel-green, but there was something familiar about the shape of her face. She felt as if she should recognize this woman, but she couldn't place from where or how – and then the vision was gone.

"Who was that woman, Tiamet? What do you want me to do?"

A sharp pain tore through her head, and if not for her stomach already being empty, she would have retched a second time.

 _Go_.

And without further question, Maven took off running back towards Antherose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A note from your humble author** : I'm sure you've all been waiting for it. Rufus and Samesa sitting under a tree K.I.S.S.I.N.G! MWHAHAHAHA Aww, but they're so cute. Will they have a happy ending? You'll have to keep reading to find out. Is Lord Anshar wrong to turn against Tiamet, or did she really do him dirty? What is the Goddess hiding and what will they do if Lord Anshar won't kill Halea to save them? Next chapter, hold onto your butts because it's going to be high-octane action from here to the end. Brace yourselves - the convergence is coming
> 
>  **Side note** : I had to go back to chapter 19 and add a couple of short paragraphs of Jance's reaction to Valria. GAH, too many characters to keep track of. Good thing I'm going to start killing a bunch of them off, that'll make my job easier. MWAHAHAHAHA
> 
> Thank you guys for reading. I hope you had a Merry Christmas and I hope you have a Happy New Year!


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